Cardinal Directions
by DarkUnderworld
Summary: *Sequel to Cardinal Points & Compass Star* Don was happy that his brothers were in love, and no matter how lonely and frustrated he was about being single, he accepted it. He had done the math and knew that his chances of finding love were nonexistent, or were they? One night changes everything, but is he brave enough to let go of logic and facts and just accept the crazy? Don/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all! I hope you all have been well! **

**As requested this fic is a sequel to Cardinal Points. **

**It features Donatello and takes place after the one-shot Compass Star (which was an addendum to Cardinal Points but one you don't have to read to enjoy this story)**

**A giant thank you to my lovely beta Marie Allen for betaing this chapter for me, you are super awesome! XD**

**And now, please enjoy!**

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Chapter 1

**Donatello** knelt upon the tiled floor, his head bowed, hands bound before him by a set of heavy iron chains that rattled slightly when he moved and he wondered with embarrassment how he had ended up in this situation?

He of course knew exactly _how_ it had happened, even _why_ it had happened, but it didn't mean he was overall accepting of the whole thing.

A current prisoner of war, his fate was held in the clawed hands of the woman who had him hunted down like a wild animal and dragged bodily in front of her court to face probable torture and execution; depending upon her state of mind at that particular moment.

Kneeling in front of her, with hooded lids, he tilted his head up enough so that he could see the woman who sat upon her throne -created from the bones of long dead, monstrous creatures- a pure black wolf sitting at her side, a silver chain leash held in a careless hand.

His gaze fell upon her feet -one delicate, oddly sensual bare foot perched upon the ground. His eyes moved up a lithe alabaster calf until the other foot was revealed, one leg negligently crossed over the other.

Sweeping up the length of her bare thighs, he noted the way the black fabric draped elegantly to the side, a profusion of lace and tulle adding weight, depth and a gothic flare to the dress while noting that the slit that ran up to her waist was so high, that Donatello knew she couldn't be wearing any underwear.

Eyes daring to move higher, he studied the tight corset with its red detailing, small hearts stitched into the silk before his eyes caught sight of the velvety expanse of her breasts, bound and pushed upwards, nearly spilling forth from their confines.

Donatello swallowed roughly and felt his eyes rove upwards, tracing across the line of her shoulders peppered with scars, but it was the pale scars transecting her face that arrested his attention.

They were in no way disfiguring, but it was the scar that was slashed through her lip that he focused on. Crimson lips were quirked up at him with satisfied, mischievous malice, and against his will, he felt tempted to trace the sensual imperfection with his lips, and this realization rocked him to his core.

His eyes leapt upwards and away causing his gaze to collide with hers for a brief moment. Half of her face was hidden by the black feather, leather, and lace mask she wore, but her gaze was arresting: dark, seductive, heated, and dangerous.

Donatello glanced down staring at his hands as he tried to control his pounding heart and his raging erection.

He was officially the _worst_ brother in all of existence. And considering the track record in their family, this was saying something.

Still, he was not supposed to be looking at his brother's wife and thinking about her in any way beyond brotherly affection. He certainly shouldn't be allowing his baser needs get the better of him.

Only, right now, he was not kneeling in front of Catherine, his brother's mate, he was kneeling in front of the Queen of Hearts.

Letting his shoulders slump in defeat and grateful that he wasn't in a position that allowed both his sister-in-law and his brother know how much he was enjoying the view, he placated his conscience by reasoning that it really wasn't his fault.

For well over a year he had been exposed to nothing but hormones, pheromones, the occasional naked woman and the smell of sex assaulting his nostrils day in and day out.

He was happy for all of his brothers, he wished them luck and every possible joy that came with meeting the person that they felt completed them. But the truth was, every week that passed the more and more depressed he was becoming about his perpetually single state.

The biggest problem, he supposed, was that he was the most rational of his siblings. He dealt in numbers and probabilities, and according to his math, they were running at a statistical deficit.

Donatello knew that the chances of meeting a woman with which any one of them could have a romantic relationship with was 0.0000003% He had calculated the math on several occasions and come to the conclusion that he and his brothers were going to remain alone for the entirety of their lives.

Only somehow, his calculations had been wrong; so very, very wrong.

Raphael, the most difficult, abrasive, infuriating and hot-tempered of his brothers, was now _married_.

Leonardo had been dating Elizabeth for six months and Michelangelo and Sabrina had been dating for almost a year and a half.

None of this computed at all. But Donatello understood statistical probabilities and he knew that there was no way that he was going to be able to beat the odds that had been stacked against him.

Catherine and Elizabeth had come into their lives and each sister had found her mate with one of his brothers. Elizabeth had a friend who happened to see Michelangelo for what he was and they had both fallen head over heels for each other. But Donatello wasn't so naïve as to believe that any of these events would repeat themselves in any way shape or form.

His circle of friends was larger now, but the opportunity to meet any women was still the same, their situation no better than it had been a year ago.

They still lived in a sewer, and had nothing to offer their significant others but themselves. None of his brothers except Raphael lived with their respective mates, and it seemed as if this would continue for some time.

Both Leonardo and Michelangelo didn't want either Elizabeth or Sabrina living in a sewer and neither brother felt comfortable living at the Brownstone, where both women lived together.

It was an impossible situation and he knew that both brothers were envious of Raphael and Catherine, but were unable and possibly unwilling to go to the lengths that they had to accomplish this feat.

"Stand," the Queen of Heart's voice commanded, dragging him from his thoughts and reminding him of where he was.

He knew he was supposed to stand, but right now, that was not a good idea. The position he was in now was ideal. His desire for his brother's wife was well hidden and he suddenly didn't feel up to playing the role that had been cast for him.

Knowing he was going to ruin everything Catherine, Elizabeth and Sabrina had worked so hard to put together, he found that he couldn't seem to help himself.

There was a murmur from the Court and the sudden movement of heavy fabric.

Donatello didn't dare look up, but felt Catherine approach, which was surprising because with the dark, diaphanous wings attached to her back, the flowing gown and multitude of capes she wore, Donatello hadn't believed that Catherine would be able to get off of the throne unassisted.

A metal clawed finger was placed under his chin and he was forced to look into Catherine's intuitive green eyes.

She always had the ability to read anyone and everyone around her and although he had been the occasional object of her searching gaze, he had never felt it as keenly as he did now.

He supposed it was because he felt as if he had something he wanted to keep hidden at the moment and he knew with a disconcerting certainty that he wouldn't be able to hide what that was from Catherine's probing gaze.

"I would have thought that you would fight fiercely against the situation you find yourself currently in," Catherine observed and Donatello knew that her words were not the ones that had been scripted for her.

Donatello didn't know how to respond to her so he remained silent.

"The uninspiring creature in front of me is not worth the effort I expelled in bringing him here," Catherine mused dangerously.

Donatello swallowed roughly and lowered his gaze again.

"You and your brothers are the last of your kind," she observed." Great warriors who lived through dark, bloody, world-saving battles, only to find yourselves, in the end, hiding in the shadows and all alone."

Donatello gritted his teeth because for some reason he suddenly felt himself on the edge of tears. Catherine's words were closer to what was written, but she had altered them enough that they touched on a pain that sat within his very soul.

"And now, here you kneel before me, so defeated that you no longer have the will to _fight_."

Lifting his head, Donatello glared at her. "There's nothing to fight for," he snarled, feeling oddly defensive and wounded by her insightful words.

"Do you not want what your brothers have?" she wondered with dark, tempting curiosity.

Donatello suddenly stood as Catherine straightened. He looked down at her, the previous desire that had heated his blood completely cooled, anger taking its place instead.

"You can't give me what they have," he shot back. They were so off script right now, he knew they weren't even talking about the Wonderland civil war like they were supposed to be doing.

"Can I not?" she wondered archly.

"No!" he snarled, "You can't!"

Catherine smiled at him, an impish light shinning in her eyes, as if she was partaking of a private joke he wasn't privy to.

And at that moment he knew they were no longer talking about anything to do with the skit they were supposed to be enacting to promote the recently released _Through the Looking Glass _Graphic novel.

Suddenly furious at Catherine for poking at this particular open wound and for knowing exactly how to push that exacting pain to its limit, Donatello snapped, "I _hate_ you." Realizing what he had just said he stared at her in horror, the blood draining from his face as he stammered, "I-I-"

Catherine burst into surprised laughter, a grin crossing her face that was full of mischievous, gleeful delight as if he hadn't just said something horribly inappropriate to his sister-in-law; words that would likely earn him a sound beating from his older, red-masked brother.

Clawed fingers scraped across his cheek and he flinched away automatically. "Your brother said much the same thing to me once," she purred. "Now look at him," she replied smugly and made a motion with her hand.

Raphael stepped out from behind the throne and Donatello felt his jaw fall open in shock.

His brother wore no shirt, his scars and metal prosthetic bared to see. He still wore his red mask, but his arms, carapace and plastron were all painted with black sigils and curved Celtic knots and tribal tattoos.

"R-Ra-Rònàn?" he stammered in surprise, remembering at the last minute his brother's character's name.

Staring in shock, he was unable to believe that his brother was walking around without a shirt on, his lower half swathed in black leather pants that looked to have been painted on.

Raphael crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the surrounding members of the Court, a low, warning growl rumbling in his chest which caused Beowulf to growl dangerously in turn.

The assembled court stepped back, horror and fear evident on the faces of creatures that were mostly inhuman.

Finally Raphael's gaze fell upon him and Donatello was barely able to restrain the whimper of fear that bubbled up his throat.

Raphael, his eyes molten pools of fury, incinerated him on the spot. Catherine cast Donatello a final look before she sauntered, swayed or whatever the right word for 'walked with sultry intent' towards Raphael, completely distracting his infuriated brother from no doubt doing him actual physical harm.

"You only get to kill him if I say so," Catherine intoned teasingly, but her voice carried with it a warning. "Right now, that troublesome mortal child Alice has secured the affections of your oldest sibling, and the loyalty of the other, thus I have need of your remaining, unaffiliated brother."

Donatello knew this was Catherine's way of telling them both to remember what they were supposed to be doing and to get back to the script.

Taking a steadying breath, he focused on his brother. "Rònàn," he pleaded at Raphael, "you can't be serious! An alliance with the Dark Queen?!" he exclaimed, hoping his acting skills weren't as bad as he thought they were. "She slaughtered our kind by the thousands, and now you stand at her side?!"

Raphael continued to glare daggers at him but finally he answered. "She killed everyone we knew, our friends, our families, but you know what, we _begged_ and _pleaded _with the White Queen and her Seelie Court, with _anyone_ who would agree to take the Dark Queen on, and not one of them helped us," Raphael countered, his voice filled with fury, anguish and hatred and Donatello blinked in shock at his brother's performance. Raphael was good, and not only that, Raphael was _enjoying_ himself.

A month ago when Elizabeth had posed the idea of promoting the graphic novel, Donatello and Leonardo had been dubious, Michelangelo had of course been all in.

Elizabeth had outlined the promotion as happening during the New York Masque of the Courts Halloween Ball. It was a good fit and the organizers of the Ball were interested in creating a bigger and better event and being able to use the characters from the Raven's new graphic novel would bring in more people as well as a new demographic.

Although not following the actual line of the story in the graphic novel, the characters were all there, with the addition of his brothers, each given a starring role in the 'Court' of each respective side.

As with previous years, the larpers moved freely about the cordoned off area, though this year, large screens had been set up to allow the players to see what was going on in each Court, which was completely scripted, but as in previous years, only the key players knew what was going to happen.

Being one of the key players, Donatello fell into this category and had grudgingly accepted his role, as did Leonardo. They knew that Elizabeth would play Alice and Sabrina was the White Queen who ruled the Seelie court, but what had surprised them was that Catherine and Raphael were going to come to New York to join in the Ball with Catherine as the Queen of Hearts.

None of them could be upset at this, not having seen either for a few months following the wedding, which made having to act and memorize lines somehow worth it, even if it was extremely embarrassing.

"So, yeah," Raphael continued, "I sided with her, 'cause she can offer me what the White Queen and Alice can't," he paused for dramatic effect. "_Revenge_."

"She's twisted your mind," Donatello said softly. "She's tempted you with false promises and seduced you away from the light."

"Maybe," Raphael agreed with a shrug, "but I don't care. What did the light ever do for me? If this is what it's like to be seduced by the dark, then I'll fight for her until my dying breath." Raphael's heated gaze found the dark Queen's. "She can give you power, revenge, a purpose, whatever you want, and all it'll cost you is a pledge of loyalty to her."

"And my soul," Donatello argued.

"It's worth it," Raphael replied his tone leaving no doubt about where his loyalty lay.

The Queen smiled and shot one last lustful glance of her own towards Raphael before turning that smoldering look upon him.

Donatello took a nervous step back as the Queen of Hearts approached him; sex, lust and temptation drifting around her as she moved.

"Your brother is my Consort –my lover-" she informed him huskily, "and he leads the terrifying and brutal faerie Host," she told him with a voice as smooth and sinful as silk. "I can offer you a position by my side, a place in my bed and the leadership of the fearsome and savage Wild Hunt."

"And if I refuse?" he ground out as she invaded his personal space.

She stepped into him, her cheek brushing across his as she purred in his ear, "You die."

"It doesn't seem as though I have much of a choice," he bit out.

The Queen pulled back slightly and smiled, her lips almost brushing his. "That is not an answer that I will accept. I need your unwavering fealty. I need to know that you will _die_ for me."

"And I need to know you won't kill me when I outlive my usefulness."

The Queen chuckled, her sharp canines flashing with dangerous mirth. "I can't guarantee your life, but I can give you what you long for," her voice deepened. "Answer me this: which pain hurts worse, that I thought your kind to be a danger to my throne and thus I eliminated them for my own protection, or that those who you believed were your allies -your friends- abandoned you to my brutality?"

Donatello stared at her for a moment, carnal lust with a hint of danger rolling off of her in waves, and he pretended to contemplate her question.

He looked away as if he could not look at her anymore, or if he couldn't bear what was truly in his heart.

The Queen stepped into him and again her lips were by his ear, her warm body pressed up against his. "Fall into the dark, little muir-seilche*," she tempted. "Tell me what it is that you desire."

"I want…" he struggled as if conflicted. "I want to see their blood run crimson upon the battlefield," he began softly. "I want to hear their screams as I heard the screams of my kind as they were slaughtered around me," his voice darkened and became stronger. "I want them to _suffer_," he snarled and the Dark Queen threw back her head, her satisfied, maniacal laughter filling the night air.

"Your fate rests in my hands," the Dark Queen intoned seriously. "Welcome, to the Court of the Unseelie," she said in a satisfied voice as he stared down at her, someone in the background yelling 'cut'.

Movement around him broke him from his trance and he was suddenly enveloped in a warm hug.

"Thank you, Donatello, for being such a good sport," Catherine said him with a bright smile, the sensual tone of her voice gone, her demeanour returned to normal as if she had thrown a switch.

"Um…you're welcome?" he asked awkwardly as she quickly removed the iron shackles from his wrists.

Catherine laughed and Donatello smiled, before quickly stepping away from her before Raphael decided to redecorate the stage with his blood.

"Donny." Raphael's hand clamped around his shoulder and spun him around. Raphael's eyes were golden slits of rage, his posture murderous. "You-"

Catherine pried Raphael's hand loose and shoved Beowulf's silver leash into his hand instead. "Come on, Donatello," Catherine said as she sent Raphael a warning look that had his brother scowling, his eyes still burning with anger. "You don't have much time," she told him. "You need a wardrobe change and you need to go into make-up," Catherine informed him, shooing him away. "Go to trailer six."

"Trailer six," he repeated with a nod and a silent 'thank you' thrown her way as he scurried out of his brother's line of sight.

Rounding the corner, he leaned against the wall and let out a pent up breath, knowing he had escaped certain death by inches. Raphael had either heard his improvised conversation with Catherine and took exception to it or he hadn't liked the fact that Catherine was essentially trying to seduce him; even if it wasn't real.

Dragging his hands down his face, he pushed off from the wall, still feeling out of sorts.

He was glad to be able to do this for Catherine, Elizabeth, and Sabrina. They had helped his family so much and had been instrumental in bringing a great deal of happiness into their lives, but he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to manage the next few hours. He felt oddly pulled, like an elastic band that was already stretched taunt and ready to snap at any moment.

His conversation with Catherine had stripped him bare and he felt raw. She was asking him to have hope that somehow he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life alone and unloved, but he couldn't give into that false promise.

He dealt in facts and the fact was that he wasn't going to just bump into-

Colliding at that moment with a small form, he reacted out automatically, grabbing her around the waist before she fell to the ground.

"Wow, nice moves," the young, blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman said as she straightened the headset she was wearing.

"Uh…thanks," he replied uncomfortably as he held her just that little bit too long. Realizing this he stammered out and apology and righted her, still uneasy with being around so many humans and pretending he was just a guy in a turtle-esque kind of suit.

She gave him a bright smile before glancing down at the clipboard she held in her hands. "Okay, good, the purple one, I was looking for you," she said looking back up at him. "You're supposed to be in trailer six."

"Right…um. I don't know where…" his voice tailed off.

"I'll show you where it is," she told him, motioning for him to follow.

"Thanks," he told her shyly as he walked beside her.

"Not a problem," she waved his thanks away. "It's kinda my job," she answered. "I'm Beth, I'm the assistant coordinator. I'm the one in charge of making sure all the principle cast members are where they are supposed to be when they are supposed to be."

He nodded in acknowledgement.

"So you and the Queen huh?" she asked him and he blinked at her.

"Huh?" he asked in confusion.

"Well, it's totally obvious that you and the Queen are a thing, it's cool," she answered and he groaned inwardly. He was a dead turtle when Raphael got his hands on him.

"We aren't," he answered firmly.

"Hmm," she said chewing on the end of her pen. "Well then they got some serious quality actors this year because you could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife."

He cringed inwardly as he got confirmation of his imminent death at the hands of his brother.

"Of course," she continued completely unaware that he was watching his life flash before his eyes, "this year is sooo much better than last year," she observed. "Last year sucked, The year before that was pretty good though, with the Fairy Queen. She was really good. And they say," she leaned in whispering, "that the chick who plays the Queen of Hearts this year is the Fairy Queen from two years ago. And I mean it's totally possible. But you know who the chick is who plays the Queen of Hearts this year, right?" she suddenly asked him.

Donatello wondered if he should tell her the truth, not knowing if he was supposed to reveal that sort of thing, since unlike in previous years, the names of the actors were not available.

"But she probably isn't," she answered her own question thoughtfully. "I'm pretty sure the Raven got the same two models who were pictured in the graphic novel, so they probably aren't the same."

"I-" he began, but she continued to talk as if he hadn't tried to answer.

"But it doesn't matter, like I said, this year is awesome. The budget we have to deal with is crazy and we completely sold out this year which has _never _happened. It's too bad it will probably only be a onetime deal with the promotion of the comic and all, but maybe the Raven plans on releasing the next graphic novel next year at the same time and if he did that it's almost like free publicity. I mean, this is actually a pretty big undertaking for something that's so Indy. But I guess since the novel came out and with his other comic, he's getting a little bit more exposure and I hear that Marvel and DC are sniffing around."

Donatello wondered where the woman got her information from because as far as he knew, Catherine hadn't mentioned anything about being approached by the two comic book giants. Though to be honest, he hadn't had much of a chance to talk to her since she and Raphael only arrived a few days ago, staying in the Brownstone with Elizabeth and Sabrina, and all of their time together had been taken up with rehearsals and planning for the Ball.

"I don't-" he began again.

"Well, here we are." She turned to face him pointing at a large fifth wheel that was parked in a deserted corner of a treed area of Central Park. "You have twenty minutes and then you need to get to the stables."

"Stables?" he gaped in shock.

"Sure, you're Lord of the Wild Hunt, you get to ride on a horse, along with the Queen and the red one."

Donatello noted that he was annoyed at Raphael being referred to as the 'red one,' as she had earlier referred to him as the 'purple one,' but he was too surprised by the information she had just imparted to really acknowledge this.

"See you in a few," she waved and strode back the way they had come.

Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, his shoulders slumped in dejection. Beth wasn't the first woman he had talked to this evening, but most of them had been larpers who were in character, so he hadn't had a real chance to get to know any of them. Beth had been the first woman who wasn't playing a role and though he could admit that she was pretty, there hadn't been that spark of _something_ there.

The door to the trailer suddenly opened behind him.

"Are your ears bleeding yet?" a teasing voice asked from behind him and he turned around to see a woman standing in the doorway of the trailer.

He found himself staring at her feeling slightly stunned. Her doe brown eyes were large and her light brown hair was pulled into a messy ponytail at the back of her head, allowing for a few strands to fall around and frame her sun kissed face.

"What?" he asked stupidly and the woman chuckled.

"Don't get me wrong, that woman is good, she can organize anything to within an inch of its life, but she will talk your ear off if you let her."

He stared at her, suddenly tongue tied.

"You must me Donal, right?" she asked.

"Right," he said with a nod, the sound of his character's name finally jolting him back to reality.

Elizabeth thought it would be best to stick as close to their real names as possible, since it wasn't as if they were professional actors and if their names were mentioned she wanted to make sure they didn't forget to respond. Adding a Celtic flair, Leonardo became Leon, Michelangelo-Mikael, Raphael – Rònàn (because he thought is sounded badass and close to Ronin, the moniker for a samurai with no master, and Donatello had barely been able to hide a smile since Rònàn meant 'seal' as in the cute water mammal) and Donatello had become Donal.

"Great," the woman said cheerily. "I'm Gwen, we don't have much time, so let's get started," she said as she turned and went back up the stairs and into the trailer.

Swallowing, he placed his foot on the metal bottom step, not really knowing what he was getting into, but not having much of a choice in the matter.

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***muir-seilche (if my sources are correct), means turtle in Celtic**

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**LOL awh poor Donny, I have a feeling this night is going to be a little rough for him;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey all! Okay next chapter is here!**

**Thank you everyone who reviewed the last chapter! And a huge thank you to Marie Allen for Beta reading this chapter for me!**

**And now, please enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 2

**Donatello** walked up the steps and into the trailer, which was larger on the inside than he was expecting.

The space was open with a rack of clothing off to one side, a chair and table with a mirror on one wall, and a plethora of what appeared to be paints, brushes and an air compressor all neatly arranged on a counter on the opposite wall.

"Okay, let's see what I'm working with," Gwen said, startling him from his perusal.

Donatello looked at the young woman and in the light, he noticed that she was as pretty as he had believed she was; her eyes bright with excitement, a smile of pleasure spread across her plump lips. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and he wondered if the mocha lock was as soft as it looked

Shaking himself from these ridiculous thoughts, he noted the paint-stained, loose-fitting pale-yellow t-shirt and jeans she wore, concluding that she must have been doing the make-up of many of the principle cast members.

"I have to say-"she studied him intently, causing a flare of nervous apprehension to fill him, "-this costume is incredibly impressive, even close up," she murmured as she stepped into his personal space.

Donatello leaned back; uncomfortable with the sudden scrutiny and afraid that at any moment she was going to realize that he wasn't in a costume and scream.

Not at all affronted by his apparent reticence to be studied, she took a step back. "Since we don't have much time, I'll help you into your clothes and then I'll do your make-up," she said to him as he looked down at his loose tan shirt and dark brown pants, a leather belt slung around his waist, which completed his outfit.

Gwen walked over to the rack of clothes he had seen earlier and she sorted through them before coming out with what looked to be black pleather pants -much like what Raphael had been wearing- a dark red homespun tunic, black tooled leather armour to go over the shirt and matching bracers for his wrists.

Placing the items over the back of the chair she walked over to him and placed her hands on his belt, quickly undoing it.

Donatello felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment and he took a step back. "I-I can get changed myself," he stammered.

"Are you sure? It'll be faster if I help," she insisted, "I can imagine it's pretty hard to move with all of these prosthetics and whatever else was used to make this costume."

"It's fine," he replied tightly, knowing there was no way he was going to let the woman in front of him strip him, no matter how pretty he thought she was -especially because of this.

Silently cursing Catherine, Elizabeth and Sabrina in his head, he quickly got changed as Gwen turned her attention to the profusion of paints that lined the counter.

Making sure her attention was firmly fixed away from him, he pulled his pants off and grabbed for the black pleather pants.

"You don't do this for a living, do you?" Gwen mused and he found himself freezing at her words.

"No," his voice was clipped as he dragged the pants from the chair, trying to pretend that this wasn't _the_ most awkward and uncomfortable experience of his entire life.

"Didn't think so," she replied. "You're _way_ too shy," she observed.

Donatello ground his teeth in irritation, wondering if he could find a convenient way to punish all three women who had put him in the position he was now in.

Shoving his leg through one pant leg and then beginning on the other, Gwen wondered, "So have you and Catherine been dating long?"

"What?!" he yelped as his head shot up and he lost his balance, tumbling backwards and landing hard on the trailer floor.

Gwen chuckled and stepped forward, helping him up off the ground as he quickly pulled his pants the rest of the way on, thankful that the tunic he wore fell almost to his knees obscuring his underwear from view.

"You don't really seem the acting type, no offense, so I have to assume you two are a couple. The scene was _hot_ and the sexual tension between you two, wow. It was just sparking and crackling around you."

Donatello felt the blood drain from his face. He was a dead turtle. He'd be lucky if Raphael left enough pieces of him behind to be buried.

"We-" he began to protest and then gave up, what was the point? After all, it wasn't as if he was ever going to see Gwen again anyway. "Wait," his mind finally focused on what she had said, "you know Catherine?" he asked as she walked over to the counter and picked up a bottle of black paint.

Shaking it in her hand, she shook her head. "Not really," she answered. "I've met her briefly twice, both times when I brought the Queen of Hearts costume for her to wear."

Donatello felt himself frown in confusion as she motioned for him to sit in a chair that sat in front of a mirror.

"I'm an acquaintance of Sabrina Douglas," she explained. "I help design some of the costumes she uses for her photo shoots. She got me to design and make the Alice and Queen of Hearts costumes and she asked me if I would be able to re-design the original costumes for this event."

Donatello felt his eyes widen in surprise. He had never thought about where the Alice and the Queen of Hearts costumes had come from. It made sense that someone would have had to design and make them, but he supposed he had just assumed that either Elizabeth or Sabrina had bought them from somewhere or had made them themselves.

"So you were at the photo shoot?" he asked as he watched her pour black paint into an airbrush. "The one that made it into the graphic novel?" he specified, not sure if there had been multiple shoots or just one.

"There were a few photo shoots. I helped Catherine and Elizabeth into their dresses and checked the wing assembly I had created as well. I knew Sabrina was going to Photoshop in the wings later, but it was good to have the reference. I stayed for the first one, just to make sure nothing went wrong with the dresses and the wings, but after that, they did their own thing and Sabrina returned the dresses when they were done."

He was about to ask her if she knew who the Raven was, wondering how close of a friend she was with Sabrina since he had never heard her name mentioned before, when she reached over and flicked on a small compressor. Testing the airbrush on her skin she turned her attention back to him as he leaned back, staring at the airbrush as if it was a poisonous snake.

"It's just makeup, it'll wash right off, I promise. I can see how much work went into your costume, so I wouldn't want to damage it," she assured him as she reached out and pulled his mask off.

Startled by this, he jumped slightly. "Sorry, but the purple has got to go." She handed him the mask and he tucked it into his tunic.

He knew he had to change his mask; he would be wearing the Queen of Hearts' colours –black and red- while Leonardo and Michelangelo would be wearing the White Queen's colours of white and blue.

Gwen got to work, first on his face, doing he knew not what, her body blocking the mirror, before she got him to stand and she continued whatever it was she was doing along his arms.

He tried to ignore the touch of her warm hand upon his skin, and the pleasant smell of vanilla under the mineral scent of makeup. Blowing out a quick breath he prayed that the night would be over soon.

It was too depressing for words.

He still felt raw after his conversation with Catherine and he wondered how Leonardo had managed to stay sane two years ago when he had first met Catherine at the same event.

They were dressed up in costumes and playing a part that had been written for them. But…

"Catherine's different."

"Yeah, she's something alright," Gwen said and Donatello almost jumped out of his shell at the realization that he had spoken his thought out loud.

Gwen was looking up at him and that was when he noticed that she was shorter than he was. She was taller than Catherine and Elizabeth, but shorter than Sabrina who was the same height as Michelangelo.

Realizing that she had answered his observation he felt a blush creep up his face.

"I mean," she quickly inserted, as if she was scared that he would take offense to his words, "she's _super _nice."

Donatello felt himself give a smirk at her words. 'Nice' was not quite the right word for Catherine. At the moment, 'evil' and 'sadist' were more apt descriptions.

Catherine was definitely enjoying herself, and though he could see why, he still felt as if it was completely at his expense.

He could almost accuse Catherine of targeting him somehow; throwing him into the most uncomfortable situation she could create, just to see what he would do.

Only he couldn't.

All of his brothers had been roped into the farce they were perpetrating and as far as he was aware, Elizabeth had been the one to come up with the idea, which meant she was just as much to blame for his predicament and deserved his ire just as equally.

"Catherine and Elizabeth are a handful," he admitted, knowing that both twins would be on the receiving end of his retribution -Catherine more so than Elizabeth, but still.

"You're dating both of them!?" the brunette in front of him squeaked in shock and he felt his mouth fall open in shock.

"What!?" he yelped. "No!" he already had one brother who was going to pulverise him into a nothing more than a thin smear on the ground, he didn't need some kind of weird rumour getting back to Leonardo as well. "Catherine's trouble enough all on her own," he insisted, which was an absolutely true statement. Both of the twins were trouble with a capital T in their own unique ways.

He could admit that he found Catherine and Elizabeth attractive -very attractive- but besides the fact that both women were mated to his brothers, he didn't feel that spark of something deeper than friendship for them.

Catherine was one of the most intelligent women he had ever met, but the truth was, she made him nervous. Her mind worked in such a way that he didn't know what she was going to do or say and usually both ended up being just this side of crazy. He was glad Raphael had found her though, because his older brother needed that kind of intuitive insanity to keep him grounded; which sounded odd when he thought about it, but it seemed to work; or he had to assume it did as he hadn't had as much time to observe Catherine and Raphael's relationship as long as he had Leonardo's with Elizabeth and Michelangelo's with Sabrina, but regardless, Raphael seemed happy.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, was…exhausting. She was passionate, straightforward and liked to talk, but it was as if she could never sit still or be quiet and had a penchant for walking around the lair naked. Elizabeth and Leonardo would fight on occasion, both having tempers, but Elizabeth's was of the shorter fused variety. Thankfully, their arguments were short lived and unfortunately for him, their make-up sessions tended to be…exuberant.

As for Sabrina, Donatello found her endearing and cute. She was playful and full of bright happiness and a sly mischief that coincided with Michelangelo's boisterous light-hearted personality, though she did have a kind of long fused temper that once effectively lit, was hard to douse.

But there was no denying that all three of his brothers were incredibly happy.

These observant thoughts settled across his shoulders like a damp wool blanket; itchy, rough and heavy.

"Almost finished," Gwen interrupted his dejected self-pitying musings as she placed a black fur cape around his shoulders and something heavy on his head.

She stepped back, her eyes scanning him from head to foot in a pleased sort of way that put a joyful spark in her chocolate coloured eyes and a smile of pride tugging at her soft pink lips.

His heart sped up a bit at the look she was giving him until he reminded himself that she thought she was looking at a guy in a costume who was dating Catherine.

Feeling a sticky kind of jealous, angry gloom fill him, Gwen stepped out of the way of the mirror and he caught a look of himself.

His face was set into hard, unforgiving lines, a scowl on his face only accentuated by the dark black make-up that had been expertly placed in a band across his eyes, causing them to reside in shadows that were only enhanced by the animal skull -he frowned as he inspected what appeared to be a wolf skull, or a mould of one with large deer antlers projecting from the top of its cranium- that placed his face even more into shadow making him appear dangerous and sinister.

Staring at himself, he was surprised by the nearly feral look in his eyes. It was an expression that he had never seen on his face before, let alone one he believed himself capable of. In fact…if it wasn't for his particular colouring, he would have thought he was staring at his hot-headed brother rather than himself.

His eyes moved from his face to study the intricate lines of the tribal tattoos that wound their way across his forearms just above the bracers and up his biceps.

This, coupled with the clothing and the dark look that still graced his face, added up enough that Donatello was sure that he was looking at someone other than himself.

"I gotta say, as Lord of the Wild Hunt, you're scarier than hell right now," Gwen mused before she gave a little clap of delight. "I'm so excited," she gushed like a schoolgirl. "Okay, you'd better get going or you're going to be late," she said as she handed him a quiver of arrows and a bow.

He slung both over his shoulders and tried to smile, but the face that had looked back at him in the mirror seemed to haunt him and felt that the smile that reached his lips was more 'wild maniacal grin' than anything friendly. "Thanks," he told her with a slight nod as he turned and walked towards the door of the trailer. He took one last look at the woman who had changed him into something dark; noting that her smile was tinged with some other emotion besides pleased giddiness of a job well done.

Curiosity.

Dismissing this observation, he opened the door and allowed the cool night breeze to hit his face.

Taking a deep breath of the crisp air, he walked down the steps and closed the door behind him.

Striding along the trailer, not sure where he was supposed to go as he noted the absence of Beth who was supposed to come and get him, a shadow suddenly peeled itself away from the surrounding darkness and before he could react, hands were gripping the fur of his cape and he was slammed up hard against the side of the trailer staring into furious, golden eyes.

"Hey there, Donny," Raphael said in a pleasant voice that dripped with menace. "You and me have to have a little chat about what the hell is goin' on between you and _my_ mate," he hissed and punctuated his point by slamming him back up against the trailer again.

He stared at his older brother a moment dumbfounded that Raphael would ever believe that he had any particular designs on Catherine. It was true that, out of all of his brothers' significant others, he felt a particular bond with her, one that even over the past year of absence had not diminished in a way, but had more to do with his admiration of her for sticking by Raphael -for _fighting_ for him- and sacrificing everything in order to be with him rather than any sort of romantic attachment.

In fact, Donatello been rooting for Raphael, _wanting_ Catherine to choose him over Leonardo –no matter how bad a brother it made him- and the fact that Raphael would believe -for even a minute- that he would ever entertain the notion of stealing Catherine away because he was the only one who was still unattached, wounded him like a knife being driven straight through his heart.

The anger and frustration he had been feeling earlier in the evening coupled with the hurt and loneliness that Catherine had poked at and the stark look on his face as he had left the trailer became one giant ball of reckless fury and he felt something inside of him snap.

"Your_ mate_ is the one who just invited _me_ into _her_ bed," he growled tauntingly, the words slipping past his lips without first checking in with his brain.

Shock at what had just slid from his mouth petrified him, his expression of sinister lechery not leaving his face no matter how hard he attempted to remove it.

Awaiting the retribution he knew he deserved, he watched in amazement as the anger drained from Raphael's eyes, his mouth falling open in utter disbelief.

The absolute bewilderment that was etched into his brother's face was priceless and Donatello would have laughed if he wasn't still frozen to the spot.

It was strange, but Donatello could almost see the gears in Raphael's mind turning, and he could actually hear his brother's internal voice opining, 'Oh, fuck, we broke, Donny.'

"I don't know if you two are fighting for real, but this trailer totally isn't mine and I don't want you denting it," Gwen's voice came from over to his right. He didn't look at her, Raphael's eyes flicking to the woman before returning to his own; the lost anger in his brother's eyes suddenly flaring to life again.

"Stay the hell away from _my_ mate," Raphael snarled lowly.

"Can't," Donatello replied, realizing that he must have some sort of death wish to continue baiting his brother, but he couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm her Lord of the Wild Hunt, remember?" he asked smoothly. "She _wants_ me at her side, and I intend to stay there."

"What the fuck, Don?!" Raphael snapped his voice harsh but tinged with frustrated concern.

"Wow, I totally take it back." Gwen's voice came from his right again. "You can totally act. Is this scene coming up, oooo a love triangle, I LOVE love triangles."

"Hey, Leprechaun, shut it," Raphael snarled, not bothering to even glance towards Gwen.

Donatello though, slid his eyes towards the woman in the doorway of the trailer who looked affronted and taken aback by Raphael's hostility and insult.

"I'm notea lepreachaun," she ground out angrily and that was when Donatello noticed a more pronounced sing-song tone to her voice that he hadn't caught earlier.

Raphael ignored her and opened his mouth to say something, but another voice spoke before he could.

"Here you two are, we have to get going," Catherine said, as if she was somehow completely oblivious to the fact that Raphael had him pinned to the side of the trailer.

Raphael stiffened, knowing that he had been caught doing something he probably shouldn't be and with one last warning glance, turned to face his wife while pasting a smile on his face and wrapping a friendly arm around Donatello's shoulders.

"Me and Don were just-" Raphael began, but Catherine took a step towards them and Raphael shut his mouth, knowing by the stern set of Catherine' lips that she had already assessed the situation and that Raphael had no excuse he could give her that she would either believe or accept.

"Raphael," Catherine's voice was dark and ominous and Donatello could almost see the shiver that ran up Raphael spine at his name. "I would like for you to please apologize to Gwendolyn for whatever you said or did to put that look on her face."

Donatello watched as Gwendolyn winced slightly at the use of her full name and he smiled, so used to Catherine's penchant for calling people by their full names that he found Gwendolyn's discomfiture somehow endearing.

Looking at Catherine, her hand clasped around the silver chain that was attached to Beowulf's collar, he somehow sensed that she had not completely thrown off the mantle of the Queen of Hearts and was still channelling the character.

"Me?!"Raphael yelped as he stepped away from Donatello. "How do you know I-"

"Because, I _know_ you," Catherine answered crisply and Donatello watched as Raphael's eyes narrowed into slits of fury.

"I'm sorry," Raphael grumbled out petulantly and Gwendolyn crossed her arms over her small frame.

"I apologize, Gwendolyn," Catherine began.

"Gwen," she said with a wave of her hand, apparently not acquainted well enough with Catherine to know that she would never win that particular battle.

Catherine continued. "I should remember to keep this one on a shorter leash," she mused darkly and Donatello watched as something flared in Raphael's eyes, but it wasn't anger, something more… _Oh_.

His mind stumbled as he realized that Raphael's returning glare had filled with lust at Catherine's words and Donatello's mind reared away, knowing way too much of his other two brothers' sex lives to want to delve into Catherine and Raphael's.

"Tch, I'd like to see you try," Raphael challenged and Catherine smiled, showing a flash of her fangs as she shot a heady, seductive glance at Raphael.

"Later," Catherine purred and Donatello could hear the promise in her words. "Right now, we have a war to win," she said with bloodthirsty determination and that was when Donatello finally understood.

Leonardo had of his own accord stayed at the Halloween LARPing event two years ago because Catherine had pushed him to let go of every feeling of embarrassment, anger, loneliness and whatever other emotion that had weighted down his shoulders, and just pretend, for that moment, that he was someone completely different.

Donatello had never been one for Halloween. He understood the novelty of dressing up and going door to door for candy, but the truth was, he always felt as if by pretending he was in a costume, be wasn't really being himself. It was ridiculous really and after a while he had been able to bury himself in his lab and ignore the one night of the year that they could stroll around topside without the humans being any the wiser about the mutants that walked in their midst.

But for some reason, tonight, he didn't feel as if he was pretending to be someone else; he _felt_ like he was someone else. In fact, he didn't even_ look_ like himself. He looked like some wild eyed, feral creature that bayed at the moon and hunted down the innocents who happened to stumble in his path; a thought that was somehow freeing.

Taking in a deep breath of the chilly night air, he grinned.

He teetered upon a brink and he realized that when he didn't see himself staring back in the mirror and found that he couldn't shake the new persona that had overcome him, that he had already fallen over.

Catherine was asking him, no, ordering him to enjoy the crazy and accept it.

The earlier embarrassment, the acknowledged ridiculousness of the entire evening, the pain he felt at Catherine's words which had struck too close to home leaving him feeling angry, defensive and bitter, all swirled together a collected in his gut and he channeled them, because he wasn't Donatello, geeky lab nerd and Mr. fix-it, he was Donal, Lord of the Wild Hunt and he embraced the dark.

Offering Catherine an arm, Raphael growled low in his chest as Catherine set her hand into the crook of his arm.

Raphael possessively grabbed Catherine around the waist, the look he gave Donatello promising that their conversation wasn't over and they walked a few paces, Beowulf leading them, before Catherine stopped, looking over her shoulder at Gwendolyn who still stood in the doorway of the trailer; lit from behind casting her body into silhouette.

"Gwendolyn," Catherine began, "Sabrina mentioned that you were wondering if I would tell you how the turtle makeup was done and how the suits were created."

"Oh, right!" Gwendolyn said in excitement. "I almost forgot. Thank you for reminding me."

Catherine grinned and Donatello wondered what she was going to give as an excuse, because he and his brothers were of course not wearing costumes.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you with that," Catherine stated bluntly a smile still playing about her ruby coloured lips.

Gwendolyn's eyes widened in surprise before her gaze fell in dejected hurt. Donatello almost felt sorry for her, but-

"You see, my companions are not wearing costumes. What you see is, as they say, what you get," Catherine imparted with a sly grin and Donatello felt his jaw sag in shock at her words.

Raphael was apparently just as surprised by his wife's admission as he was because his brother stared at Catherine in horror.

Catherine's smile broadened with delight as she continued to talk into the stunned and confused silence that had fallen over them. "So, now that you know the truth, you have a choice, Gwendolyn. Are you going to chase after the light, or are you going to fall with us into the dark?" she wondered curiously before turning her head forward again and pulling Raphael and himself along with her, Beowulf trotting in front of them as they left the astonished woman at their backs.

Donatello looked over at Catherine, wanting to chastise her for being reckless and for telling a practical stranger their biggest secret, but the insanity of the night took over and instead, Donatello had to fight back a chuckle, because Catherine's truthful words were completely and utterly freeing.

Raphael remained silently brooding and Donatello looked back over his shoulder as they walked away, shooting Gwendolyn a dangerous, challenging grin, daring her to follow them down the rabbit hole and into the perilous madness of Wonderland.

* * *

**LOL hope everyone had fun;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Heya everyone! going into a long weekend woot woot! Hope everyone has a great one, and for my American readers, yours it coming up next weekend I believe, so have fun and enjoy!**

**Alrighty as always a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, it means so very much to me that you guys take the time to leave a few words, it's always appreciated.**

**Also a HUGE thank you to Marie Allen for beta reading this chapter for me at lightning speed, and for her amazing words of encouragement on this fic, I can't thank you enough! XD**

**And now, please enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 3

**Gwendolyn** had slammed the trailer door shut, seething upon 'actors' as she had shaken her head back and forth in annoyance.

In general she didn't mind dealing with actors and models, but sometimes there were the ones who needed to practically be in character all the time, immersing themselves in their roles and not even taking a break, even when they were in the makeup chair.

She understood dedication to the craft and the need to sometimes go to extreme lengths to get into character, but at times, she couldn't help but group them into the categories of 'high maintenance' and 'crazy.'

Having let out a sigh, she had admitted to herself that for some, it worked. The guy she had finished with earlier had gone from nervous, shy, and embarrassed to the very embodiment of the Lord of the Wild Hunt. His transformation had been so complete, that she had felt a little chill run down her spine at the look he had given her before he had left the trailer.

There was darkness and danger in that look, which gave her a pleased sense of accomplishment for doing a brilliant job as well a certain respect for his ability to emote so well through what had to be layers and layers of make-up and prosthetics.

She also had to admit to being a little curious as to who the man behind the mask was, as it were, both literally and figuratively speaking.

Musing on this exact thought, the trailer had suddenly shook and a loud thump had drawn her back outside where Donal (she really should have asked him his real name) was being manhandled and threatened by Rònàn, or… Catherine had called him Raphael, so she had to assume that was his real name.

Though she didn't know if their fight was real (she was pretty sure it wasn't) she wondered despairingly why she had gotten stuck with the method actors.

Technically she hadn't done Raphael's makeup (which she had to admit was damn impressive) only Donal's, as well as a few friends, but still… "Leprechaun my rosy red arse," she snapped, her accent thickening before she pulled her hair out of the confining elastic and dragging her hands through it. "Jerk."

She was trying so hard to rid herself of her Newfoundland accent, but it was tough. Newfoundlanders were the butt of _Canadian_ jokes, she didn't need to be the butt of American ones too. She swore to herself, if she heard anyone say 'eh' 'aboot' and 'hoser' again, she was going to do someone some serious physical harm.

Blowing her hair out of the way, she admitted that she wasn't too displeased to have her accent mistaken for an Irish one. She liked Irish accents, they were nice. The garbled tongue that made her speech near impossible to understand, even to other Canadians, was one she had been trying to rid herself of since she had come to New York three years ago.

That was when she had met Sabrina. Well, technically they had met through DeviantArt. Sabrina had liked some of the costumes she had placed on the site, and had offered to get a model and photograph some of the creations for a small fee.

They had a nice working relationship and she had been thrilled when she had been approached by the Scottish woman to design the two costumes for the graphic novel she was working on with Elizabeth, who was to be one of the models.

When she had first measured the younger woman, she had believed she would be playing the Queen of Hearts and had designed the costume accordingly. It wasn't until Gwendolyn had shown up at the photo shoot, costumes in hand, that she had been presented with Elizabeth's twin sister, who had been mildly annoyed at having just had her long locks dyed crimson and black.

Gwendolyn found that she liked Elizabeth. She was fun, vibrant and had a devil-may-care attitude that she was envious of. She had expected her sister to be the same, but in that she was completely wrong. Catherine was polite, reserved and overly formal; greater polar opposites could not even be imagined.

It wasn't that she disliked Catherine, she hadn't been lying when she had told Donal that she was nice -she was- there was just…something about her that she couldn't quite put her finger on; an otherness that set her apart from everyone else.

She was being ridiculous, of course. Just because Catherine was quiet and reflective as opposed to brash and noisy like her sister -probably _because _of her sister- didn't mean she had to think she was _rimmed_, but she couldn't seem to help herself.

When she had handed the costumes over to Sabrina, her jaw had nearly hit the floor when she realized that Catherine was the one who was going to play the part of the Queen of Hearts; though Gwendolyn had to admit that she couldn't argue with the results of the pictures. The quiet, intense woman had managed to convey carnal lust, danger and mischievous, deadly intent without muttering a single word.

Gwendolyn had been thrilled when she had finally seen the photographs in the graphic novel and when Sabrina had called her wanting the costumes again and to redesign the originals so that they were darker, more gothic and elaborate, she had been too excited for words. When Sabrina had offered her the opportunity to also be in the promotion event and help with makeups, she couldn't contain her delight.

For years she had been trying to get her name out there. She had her own website and she did custom costumes, many of them fantasy or cosplay based, as well as makeup tutorials and she knew this was her chance to showcase her brand.

Doing an event this big would allow her the chance to come to the attention of movie makeup artists and costume designers; maybe even lead to an opportunity to work or have her designs featured on a movie set -which she knew was a flight of fancy, but she allowed herself to indulge a little, she was a realist after all.

She had been a little disappointed that her trailer had been set up so far away from everyone else and that she only had one of the principle actors to work on, but she couldn't complain too much. Her fabric creations as well as her makeup skills were being showcased and she had just been offered a place in either court during the final 'battle.'

Gwendolyn blinked as an errant thought interrupted her musing, dragging her back to the present and she palm-slapped her forehead.

She was such an idiot.

In Catherine's/the Queen of Heart's weird-ass way, the younger woman was telling her to get her arse in gear and pick a side, because the final scene of the night was about to begin.

Quickly running over to her rack of clothing, she pawed through it.

The only plans she had for the remainder of the evening had been to wait until the principle actors were finished and help them out of their costumes. But just before Donal had ended up at her trailer door, Sabrina had texted her, telling her that if she wanted, she was welcome to join either court on-stage to fill out the numbers a little.

She had readily accepted and then put no more thought into what she was going to wear as she heard Beth's voice outside the trailer and knew she had work to do.

Her thoughts circled around until she thought of Donal again.

She had to admit to being intrigued by him. How he managed to be so smoking hot when he was basically dressed as a giant turtle she would never know, but somehow he pulled it off. The dangerous '_I dare you/come hither'_ look he had leveled at her after Catherine's invitation to join them in the dark, had sent a tingling thrill of something through her that had her almost regretting that Donal was dating Catherine.

Those two had some serious something going on and she couldn't help but be a little envious of the wistful, almost reverent way Donal had –out of the blue- admitted that Catherine was _different_; as if this was –above everything else- her most important quality.

In fact, Gwendolyn liked Donal better _because_ of it.

He hadn't admitted crassly that it was the younger woman's striking beauty or curvaceous body that had garnered his interest, but that it was the whatever it was that made her, _her_.

And what woman wouldn't want to be loved for just being one's self?

Gwendolyn glanced over at her visage in the mirror and let out a sigh. With Catherine, Elizabeth and Sabrina around, it made her feel wholly inadequate to compete against the three other women –not that she was competing in any way shape or form- but they made her feel drab in comparison.

Considered 'cute,' Gwendolyn knew she would never be 'sexy' or 'hot', not with her mousy brown, painfully straight hair that always seemed to slip free from whatever confines she attempted to keep it in and her boyish figure.

She had never lacked for male attention, but most of the time, she was just 'one of the boys.' The ones who didn't automatically shove her in the friend box were either jerks who liked anything with boobs, or good guys that she wished she could feel something deeper for, but couldn't seem to connect with.

Sighing to herself, she admitted that the saying 'all the good ones are taken' seemed so painfully true.

Smirking to herself, she wondered if Raphael was single. Not that she was saying he was by any stretch of the imagination a 'good' guy and would actually classify him as a complete ass, but she had to admit to herself, he was probably taken.

If all the 'good' ones were in relationships, there always seemed to be an inordinate number of 'bad' ones who were inexplicably attached as well; usually to girls who were _way _too good for them and put up with too much shit.

Giving a derisive snort, her mind reflected back on the heated, challenging look Donal had given her, that in remembrance, seemed filled with so much promise and dark temptation, that she found she had to physically shake her head back and forth to dislodge her thoughts.

She was so not going to go there.

Not only did she not know what he even looked like under his costume or anything really about him personality-wise, but he was _taken_.

Looking back at herself in the mirror, she let out a squeak of alarm, wondering how long she had been standing there for.

Huffing out a quick breath, she glanced at the clock, noting that she only had fifteen minutes to get ready if she wanted a place beside one of the queens.

Quickly turning and rifling through the rack of costumes she had earlier pulled Donal's from, she knew that she was going to have to go with the Light Court. She had some good dark fairy costumes, but she didn't have the time to do a decent makeup.

Biting her lip thoughtfully, she glanced at the two costumes she had pulled out. One was a flowing, strapless, layered, clinging, golden, wispy, frothy confection, while the other was a hooped, corseted brocade of blue and white hooped dress that was perfect for a masquerade.

She let out a sigh and felt her shoulders droop. She never wore dresses very well. She always felt as if she was playing dress-up in someone else's clothes and couldn't pull off the beautiful elegance of a dress. She was a tomboy at heart and she wished she could dress up like a princess and feel like one, but the truth was, she was more comfortable in her baggy, paint and make-up stained shirts and worn jeans.

She dreamed of showing off her skills at Comic-Con next year and she knew she would have to play someone else, but she couldn't seem to slip as easily into someone else's skin as other people did.

Catherine as the Queen of Hearts was a creepy example of how the clothes literally _made_ the woman.

Eyes darting between the two costumes, she went with the gold dress. It was less cumbersome, easier to slip on alone and the shimmering diaphanous wings that went with it were beautiful.

Quickly getting dressed, she glanced at the clock noting she had ten minutes and got to work on her hair and make-up.

She dragged her hair up and pinned the life out of it before gluing on a set of pointed elf ears and taking the airbrush to give herself a quick gold tinge of shimmer across her revealed skin. Using golds, yellows and burnished oranges, she finished her eye makeup complete with false eyelashes and dark mascara.

Taking up the wings she placed them into the slits on the back of her dress and hoping they would remain vertical, took a look at herself in the mirror. She smiled, pleased with the result. The dress flattered her less curvaceous figure and she was pleased with the pixie/sprite effect. She looked like a glittering ball of golden sunlight.

Giving herself one last quick look in the mirror, she took a deep breath, thankful that she didn't look awkward and instead only felt it on the inside where the tiny butterflies fluttered around in her stomach.

Slipping on the ballerina-style shoes, she exited the trailer and closed the door behind her as she quickly made her way to the lit staging area where the final confrontation between good and evil was about to take place.

* * *

**Donatello** looked at the beast in front of him and seriously began to regret his 'go with the flow', 'embrace the dark' attitude he had adopted.

He wasn't overly comfortable riding anything that had a mind of its own, no matter how small said mind was. He preferred a steering wheel and a mechanically engineered mode of transport. At least if something broke or went wrong, he could usually fix it or control the outcome more readily than having to try to stop a prey animal giving into an instinctive flight response.

The horse tossed its head in irritation and Donatello felt his shoulders sag. He was already in for a penny, he might as well be in for a pound.

Putting his foot in the stirrup, he hefted himself up and onto the back of his pitch black steed.

Settling himself into the saddle, he looked to his right where Catherine and Raphael were already on their ornamented, painted and battle-ready horses; Beowulf sitting docilely beside Catherine's mount.

Catherine shot him a look and smiled, but the smile was neither comforting nor benign, it was downright bloodthirsty.

Donatello shivered a little and gave a quick glance at his older brother, who looked furious.

Once they had left Gwendolyn's trailer, they had walked in silence for a few paces, Raphael looking like he was about to launch into a tirade of epic proportions when Beth suddenly appeared, words spilling from between her lips like an endless waterfall. They had then been bustled towards the staging area where there were six horses –three black, two white- standing around waiting for their riders.

The white horses were quickly taken to the other side of the staging area for the Seelie riders –the White Queen and Alice and Catherine, Raphael and himself were encouraged to mount their own horses.

As he sat upon his horse, waiting for their signal to ride forth into battle, Donatello found his mind drifting to Gwendolyn and wondering if she thought they were all three bricks short of a full load. Though truthfully, if she thought they were insane, he couldn't really argue the fact, especially not tonight.

The sound of a horn rent the restless murmuring that had drifted around them and Donatello felt all of his muscles tighten with sudden anticipation.

The horse beneath him let out a snort of air through its nostrils and shuffled forward as the Queen of Hearts raised a hand. Beowulf let out a wolf-like howl and Donatello's horse took a few steps back, ears plastered flat against its skull. Giving the horse a comforting pat on its neck, he waited.

"TO WAR!" The Queen of Hearts shouted, the throng of inhuman creatures behind them roared as Donatello kicked his heels into his horse's sides to follow the Queen of Heart's charge.

Across the crisp grass they rode at a trot -to make sure the horde behind them was able to keep up- over a hill and towards the flat staging area where a crowd of fairy onlookers were already waiting.

Slowing, they ambled into the clearing bathed in the bright light of the moon and soft. artificial blue lighting.

They came to a stop, standing a few yards away from the White Queen and Alice mounted upon their white steeds.

Donatello had only glimpsed Sabrina and Elizabeth on the large screens while running through the cordoned off streets and central park during his 'flight' from the Queen of Hearts, but now he was actually able to have a look at both women and his two other brothers in full makeup.

Sabrina sat ramrod straight on her horse, her hair a mass of golden-red curls a white circlet with sapphires sitting across her brow. A white diaphanous gown clung to her curves to drape elegantly over her form and the back of the horse, while large white wings, not quite as elaborate as Catherine's, projected outwards from her back.

To Sabrina's left stood Michelangelo, a white mask across his face, silver armour gleaming at his shoulders, a blue tunic and white pants finishing off his costume.

Donatello's eyes moved to the right, taking in Elizabeth as Alice, her hair hidden beneath the blonde Alice wig, her body corseted in a voluptuous baby blue and white gothic lace and tulle gown that was less ornate than Catherine's but just as beautiful.

To Elizabeth's right was Leonardo, his blue mask remaining unchanged, the blue hilts of his swords visible where they were strapped to his back. He wore a white tunic with dark blue pants, his right arm coated in silver armour, chain mail draped across his hips more for affectation than actual protection.

The Queen of Hearts urged her steed forward, Beowulf still at her side, as the White Queen mirrored her rival's movements.

"I dunnae want tae spill anymore fae blood upon these sacred grounds," the White Queen's voice rang out, her Scottish burr heavy but melodic.

"That is a pity," the Queen of Hearts purred, "I so much like the beauty of wet crimson awash upon brilliant emerald."

"We dinnae havtae fight. You can take your forces and leave us be."

The Queen of Hearts gave a condescending smile. "The dark must always do battle with the light, as the light must always stand against the dark." She shook her head. "You of the Golden Court, the Court of Light, think you are so much better than us; so far above us. You think we, the outcast, the violent, the monstrous, are a plague upon the land which must be eradicated. You think that your hands are free of fae blood, of mortal blood, but your hands are just as bloodied as ours." Her voice had risen with each word; hard, vicious, righteous.

"Any blood tha' has been spilled wasnae for the pleasure o' it," the White Queen retorted in disgust, as if the thought of the comparison was abhorrent to her. "You and your kind are an abomination. You revel in pain, suffering and misery. You take pleasure in death!"

The Queen of Hearts grinned, baring her sharp canines in joyful glee. "True."

"Will you no' back down? Call an end tae this pointless war?" the White Queen asked.

"No," the Queen of Hearts stated unequivocally.

"Fine. Then I bring forward the right tae choose a Champion tae represent me and my Court in a one on one battle tae decide the victor!" the White Queen challenged.

A rippled of disappointed murmurs went through the crowd (mostly on the Unseelie side).

The Queen of Hearts was silent for a moment as if thinking over the challenge. "If my Champion wins," she began slowly as if warming up to the idea, "you and yours shall be at my mercy," she stated.

"An' if mine is the victor, you must seal your Court away beneath your Carins and Tors an' leave Wonderland in peace," the White Queen countered.

The Queen of Hearts shifted in the saddle. "Your terms have been accepted," she finally agreed and Donatello felt a shiver of something slip down his spine.

"I choose Leon as my Champion, tae fight for the light an' freedom of Wonderland!" the White Queen proclaimed to the roar of her Court.

Donatello glanced over at Raphael who scowled at Leonardo as their oldest brother promised to do his duty to his Queen and to Alice.

Alice replied that she knew he would be able to push back the dark, or something to that effect, Donatello stopped listening as he glanced at Raphael who was cracking his knuckles in anticipation of his 'fight' with Leonardo; a fight Raphael was only allowed to participate in because it wasn't real.

Despite the apparent stability of Raphael's plastron and the good place his mind was in with regards to his PTSD, Donatello had been hesitant to allow Raphael to fight against Leonardo.

Raphael had hotly protested that it wasn't even real and that he'd be fine, to which Catherine had assured Donatello that she believed it would be okay.

Relenting, because he knew Catherine would know Raphael's state of mind and physical limitations better than he did, Donatello hadn't given the matter another thought.

Only now it hit him that Raphael would have to 'lose' to Leonardo, and in the foul mood Raphael was in at the moment, he wondered if Raphael was going to forget this very poignant fact and fight for real to win.

"For my Champion," the Queen of Hearts began, interrupting his troubling thoughts as Raphael moved to dismount, "I choose… My Lord of the Wild Hunt, Donal."

"What!?" he yelped in unison with Raphael.

"Oh, hell no," Raphael snarled furiously.

The Queen of Hearts ignored Raphael's outburst and turned her attention completely upon him. "You vowed to show me your loyalty," she informed him seriously. "You said that you would fight for me; that you wished for their blood to run red upon the ground. This will be your _only _chance to get your retribution and prove your worth," she stated smoothly.

'_This was so not part of the plan_,' he thought to himself in confusion, noting the words she spoke were not the ones that had been scripted. He wondered if Catherine had the same concern he had, thinking Raphael might ruin all of the hard work she, Elizabeth, and Sabrina had put into putting this event together because he wouldn't want to lose to Leonardo, making the fight real and possibly hurting himself in the process.

Eyes narrowing slightly in speculation, he reviewed her words in his head and searched them for any double meaning.

He watched as Catherine tipped her head to the side as she studied him in return. She didn't seem to be worried and she didn't appear o be trying to send him a hidden message with her eyes or with any physical gestures to indicate that Raphael was the problem. She was as calm and collected as she always was.

As if sensing his bafflement at the turn of events, she smiled at him and her grin was absolutely devious.

He knew, deep down and in the very marrow of his bones that she was messing with him. She was, as he had theorized, putting him in awkward and completely uncomfortable situations, just to see what he would do, and this thought made him furious.

The Queen of Hearts spoke, her words measured and lilting, "If you do not defeat your brother, you shall remain as you always have: in his shadow." Donatello flinched. "You shall never again walk in the light or be able to show your true worth. You shall continue to spend every moment of every day beneath the surface, forgotten and unknown by all who walk above, and you shall remain forever alone." Her words were like a lash that struck against his skin, tearing through flesh, leaving him bloody and raw.

His anger, which had completely banked, only giving a small spark of life at his realization that Catherine -for reasons completely beyond him- was toying with him, flared to life again as her taunts about his quiet, passive nature placing him in the shade of his brothers in skill, his perpetually single state and his penchant of staying in the lair where he could remain in peace, stuck him to his very core.

Glaring at her angrily, she gave him a challenging look and he dismounted from his horse.

Raphael and the Queen of Hearts dismounted as well, the horses being spirited away by their trainers as the Queen of Hearts made a motion with her hand. Her throne, the one she had been sitting on earlier in the evening, appeared and she walked over to it, pulling Beowulf on his silver leash with her. Getting Beowulf to sit, she pulled out a long shaft of wood. Turning, she bestowed it upon him in a very formal manner. "Your weapon," she said seriously, a hint of mocking condescension in her tone.

Pulling back his lips in a feral snarl, he snatched the black bo staff from her hands and leaned towards her. "You'll regret this," he promised.

She lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at him. "Will I?" she asked silkily as the air between them crackled with dangerous tension and Donatello swore to himself that he was going to do everything in his power to follow through with his threat.

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**Cat, you better duck and cover, I think you broke Donny!LOL oh how I enjoy tormenting poor Donatello. **

**I know not too much Don/Gwen interaction in this chapter, but don't worry next chapter there will be some. This is a slow build kind of fic.**

**Anyway hope you guys enjoyed!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Happy long weekend to my amazing American readers!**

**As always a giant thank you to all of my lovely reviewers, your kind words mean so much to me!**

**Also a huge thank you to my awesome beta Marie Allen for editing this chapter for me! XD**

**And now, please enjoy**

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Chapter 4

**Donatello** allowed his threat to hang in the air between himself and Catherine before he finally turned away and looked out across the expanse between the two courts, noting that the White Queen sat upon her own white wooden throne: Alice standing at her right, Michelangelo at her left.

Glancing to his right, he scanned the bleachers set up to accommodate those who wished to view the 'final battle' in person. His gaze then slid to Leonardo who was giving the Queen of Hearts an assessing look before flicking his eyes to Raphael and away as if in silent understanding of Catherine's sudden change in Champion.

Donatello blocked out the crowd watching them and dared to look over his shoulder at Raphael, whose expression had gone from furious to murderous.

If looks could kill, the death glare Raphael's molten amber orbs were giving him at the moment would have incinerated him on the spot several times over.

Donatello smirked and nodded his head slightly at his brother as if to say 'bring it,' apparently deciding to court death with his most dangerous and already irate brother. The sudden look of utter shock that momentarily flitted across Raphael's before being replaced by unfettered wrath, totally made whatever beating he was going to receive later completely worth it.

But right now, he had his own personal vendetta to enact.

Shifting his attention back to Leonardo, he gave his bo a twirl and cracked his neck as he had seen Raphael do too many times to count.

The fight between Raphael and Leonardo had not been choreographed and only the portion right before the fight had been scripted. Both were skilled fighters used to taunting and ribbing one another and as Raphael put it, they were both comfortable with just 'winging it'.

The only point that had been established was that Raphael was supposed to lose to Leonardo, the dark banished for eternity, Wonderland saved from the evil fairy queen and her dark court and returned to the light.

But that was not going to happen. Not if he could help it.

Grinning at his opponent, Donatello raised his staff into the air, playing to the crowd like he had seen the wrestlers Raphael watched on TV do. Those cheering for the Unseelie court roared in approval, while those on the side of light booed.

Donatello could think of no better way to get back at the three women for this evening -especially Catherine- than watching them all squirm and flounder and try to figure out how to save the performance they had tossed him wholly and uncomfortably into.

He knew this was truly a despicable action he was contemplating, but he was so raw and angry that even though logically he knew he wasn't thinking straight and that he was going to seriously regret his actions, he couldn't seem to help himself.

It didn't seem to matter that he had never once -not in any of his sparring or training matches- ever beaten Leonardo, because his mind was set upon the goal of taking down his brother and watching the chaotic aftermath with a gleeful smile spread across his face.

"It isn't too late, Donal," Leonardo began with his scripted dialogue, "I know you don't want to do this. You have always walked in the light. You aren't too far gone to do so again."

Donatello felt a manic smile spread across his features. He hadn't learned Raphael's lines because he was supposed to be standing sentinel at the Queen of Heart's side while he watched his two older brothers scrap for the millionth time.

He didn't even know what his reply was going to be before it tumbled from his lips. "You're wrong," he answered smoothly. "I _want _to do this," his voice was hard and cruel.

Leonardo blinked a few times and while his brother was busy trying to think of a response, Donatello charged.

Leonardo, surprised by his sudden assault, smoothly unsheathed his swords from his carapace and blocked his strike.

Donatello had been expecting this, knowing that his older brother was quick and exacting enough to be able to easily counter almost anything that was thrown his way.

However, Donatello was counting on a few factors that would hopefully lend him a slight advantage over his more highly-skilled brother: his determination to win a fight he was supposed to lose, his furious anger, his thirst for retribution, and Leonardo's unfamiliarity with the replica but very real short swords he was using as opposed to his beloved katana blades.

Leonardo pushed him back, and Donatello took two steps away to give himself some room to manoeuvre. Striking out again with his bo, Donatello spun as Leonardo blocked his hit again, but this time, Donatello landed a punch upon Leonardo's jaw.

Leonardo lashed out, the deadly blades of his short swords striking against the hard wood of his staff. Donatello twisted bringing his body in close to Leonardo.

"Don, what are you doing?" Leonardo hissed lowly, though his words carried from the microphone each had attached to their costumes to the speakers surrounding the area.

Donatello gave Leonardo a dark smile. "Winning," he announced as he twisted and pushed Leonardo back, causing his brother to stumble.

Leonardo frowned at him, his features becoming serious.

"What did you do to him?" Leonardo threw the question at the Queen of Hearts, though Donatello had the impression that Leonardo was _actually_ asking.

The Queen of Heart's smile -one that would have made the Cheshire Cat envious- spread across her face, her sharp canines glinting as she replied, "I tempted him," she admitted. "I stripped him down and laid him bare before me," she purred, her voice as smooth as dark chocolate and as seductive as sin.

Leonardo's entire focus shifted to Catherine, a look of disbelief on his face giving Donatello an opening. His roundhouse kick connected with the side of Leonardo's skull causing him to go down, but only for a moment as his oldest brother quickly recovered, rolling to his feet and narrowing his eyes in anger.

Leonardo gave his head a quick shake, whether to remove the fuzziness caused by Donatello's foot or to dislodge any images of Catherine seducing Donatello from his mind, Donatello wasn't sure, but Leonardo regained his composure and slid into an offensive stance.

"I showed him how weak he was," the Queen of Heart's continued, her voice sharpening like a blade, "and he is determined to prove me wrong."

Studying his older brother, he realized that Leonardo was no longer playing around; which was too bad.

Donatello had hoped that it would take longer for Leonardo to catch on that he wasn't making the fight look real, it _was_ real, which meant that he had lost one advantage, but he hoped that the others would make up for it in the long run.

Leonardo gave his swords a twirl and Donatello was momentarily disappointed at how comfortable the weapons looked in his grip as they circled each other.

His brother launched himself at him and Donatello ducked out of the way while simultaneously swinging his bo at Leonardo's ankles, hoping to trip him up.

Leonardo was, of course, too skilled to fall for this, leaping out of the way, tumbling, righting himself, and delivering a roundhouse kick that struck Donatello in the center of the plastron.

This strike caused him to give ground, taking a step back before he rallied and was able to block Leonardo's swords with his bo.

"What is your problem?" Leonardo bit out.

Donatello channelled his inner Raphael and snarled, "You."

Leonardo's shocked features slid into hard lines and he observed, "You'll never win against me."

From anyone else, the words would have been arrogant and boastful, in Leonardo's case, he was only stating what he believed to be absolutely true.

"I will," Donatello answered, finally gaining a small speck of insight into Raphael's rivalry with their oldest sibling, and the overwhelming need to knock Leonardo down a peg.

"You've _never_ won against me." Again, a simple statement of fact, but this one struck him to his very core.

Never having been in this particular situation before, where the need to soundly beat his brother overwhelmed his normally passive and logical nature, Donatello had no doubt that he would have found the revelation fascinating, but right now, it only added fuel to the fiery fury that blazed within him.

Casting a quick glance at Catherine, who lounged upon her throne, looking every inch the terrifying Queen, he noted that she didn't appear worried that he was about to claim sudden victory.

It was then that their eyes met and she gave him a smirk as if to say 'nice try' or 'is this the best you can do?' and for the first time in his life, Donatello tasted the red rage Raphael had always been subjected to.

He was going to make her regret choosing him to fight in the battle, for manipulating him –because he _knew_ she was toying with him- for no other reason than her own personal amusement.

Leonardo was furious and focused, but he had nothing upon Donatello's rage filled wrath and the next few minutes became nothing more than a blur of motion; of weapons gracefully being rotated and thrust forward, the thwack of metal against wood, the dull thump of flesh against flesh, and the loud grunts of pain and cries of exertion.

His muscles ached, he was out of breath and he was bleeding. Leonardo was not doing much better, but at least Donatello was still on his feet.

Leonardo wasn't.

Sprawled upon the ground, Leonardo looked up at him in shock. Aimed at his brother's throat was one of Leonardo's own swords held in Donatello's grip.

He only had a vague recollection of the end of his bo smashing against Leonardo's hand with enough force to numb it momentarily and cause his brother to lose his hold upon the hilt, the sword falling to the ground where Donatello had quickly snatched it up before they clashed again and again, both trying and failing to gain the upper hand.

But somehow, Donatello -with a well aimed kick coupled with the longer reach of his bow- had managed to trip Leonardo up and caused his oldest brother to crash to the ground in an ungainly heap.

"I win," he panted in a growl he barely recognized as his own.

Shocked silence greeted his words and he couldn't help the dark smile that twisted up the corners of his lips.

With the need to rub his victory in Catherine's face, he asked in a low, bloodthirsty voice, "Do you wish me to end him, or do you desire another toy to add to your collection, my Queen?"

The Unseelie Court erupted in a roar of cheers at the unexpected defeat of the Seelie Court, who all stared in mute shock at what they had believed would be certain victory.

After all, evil had never before won during the New York Masque of the Courts Halloween Ball. Ever.

"I never could turn down the opportunity to gain a new plaything," came the Queen of Heart's lilting velvet voice from over his shoulder.

Letting the sword, tainted crimson with his own blood, fall to the ground, he picked up his headdress which had been knocked off sometime during their fight and placed it back on his head before lifting up his arms in victory, as Raphael's wrestlers had always done.

It was at that moment, he finally understood the true pleasure of winning. He and his family had won many a battle, had more than their share of triumphs over the forces of evil, but never before had he ever experienced the rush of endorphins and the thrill of victory as he did at that moment, and he felt drunk with the power of it.

Donatello walked around close to the Seelie Court extras while Alice ran to her fallen lover's side, helping him up off the ground as the cheers and thunderous confusion from the Seelie Court surrounded him.

Wanting to share his triumph and unable to do so with anyone he knew because he had just ruined everything for them, he spotted Gwendolyn and the sight of her caused him to catch his breath. He felt a dangerous smile suddenly spread across his face.

She looked like a tiny piece of the sun had fallen to earth to light up the darkness and he wondered when his brain had gotten so poetic.

Stalking towards her, she caught his gaze and she took a step back. Reaching out, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards him.

He wasn't quite sure what was driving his sudden impulsive decisions, but he decided he wasn't about to dissect his actions -for the moment anyway.

After all, he wasn't himself right now. He was Donal, Lord of the Wild Hunt and he had just won against his superior older brother and with this rush as well as the adrenalin that still pumped through his veins, he swore he had never felt so alive.

Doe-brown eyes, wide with shock and curiosity, stared up at him. The warmth from her lithe body was plastered against his plastron, soft curves moulding to hardened muscle, his blood flush with euphoria producing endorphins, causing Donatello to do something he never would have had the courage to normally do.

Roughly tipping her chin up, he stole his first ever kiss.

Startled, she almost pulled away before she hesitantly returned his kiss and he reformed his earlier observation.

N_ow_ he felt more alive than he ever had.

Desire coursed through him like electricity across his skin as every neuron and synapse in his body sparked to life.

He felt flush, his bruises, pain and tiredness vanishing completely under the onslaught of need that left him feeling as if he was slowly burning from the inside out.

She broke away and looked up at him, her eyes as wide as saucers and holding a tiny spark of alarm within their strikingly dark depths.

He gave her a smile which he knew was not at all comforting; after all, he was the 'bad' guy in all of this. He was one of the dark fae and she was all golden light and pixie elfin beauty and 'Donal' had just decided that he wanted to keep her.

Grabbing her around her waist, noting that she was not quite as petite as Catherine and Elizabeth, but that she was still a tiny little scrap of femininity, he lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Gwendolyn gave a squeak of surprise but didn't protest his action; one which he figured would throw his Queen off even more.

Turning towards the source of this evening's torment, he plastered a satisfied smile across his face as he dared Catherine to try to get herself out of the mess he had created.

The Queen of Hearts lounged in her throne; her elbow resting upon the armrest, her hand lying upon her cheek while her other hand negligently held Beowulf's silver leash. She observed his theatrics with apparent interest, but not a hint of alarm.

Donatello knew Catherine well enough to know that she did not easily reveal her inner turmoil, unlike Sabrina and Elizabeth who looked completely nonplused and unsure of how to continue.

"I take it you are claiming her as your spoils of war?" the Queen of Hearts asked in a languid voice; one eyebrow lifted in inquiry.

"It's my right," Donatello answered back. "I _won _after all," he boasted.

"So you did," she acknowledged with a satisfied smile as she sat up straight in her throne.

Donatello, his prize still slung over his shoulder, walked to his position at the Queen of Hearts' side.

The Queen of Hearts stood and took two steps towards the White Queen and Alice, who still looked dumbfounded and unsure of what to do. Their surprise couldn't have been faked and he enjoyed that his vengeance was so complete.

"It appears as though my Champion has bested yours," the Queen of hearts voice rang out smugly across the space that separated the two courts. "As per the agreement of the terms laid out beforehand, I claim my right to do with you and yours as I see fit."

There was a murmur from both courts as the White Queen and Alice gaped at the Queen of Hearts.

"Bae," she motioned with her hand, "pozor."

Beowulf looked to where the Queen of Hearts was pointing, and free of his leash, loped towards Leonardo and Michelangelo, stopping before them and growling threateningly before looking towards his mistress. "Sedni," the Queen of Hearts commanded and Beowulf sat, giving both of his brothers a looked that dared them to move from where they were.

Turning her attention away from the wolf-dog, the Queen of Hearts commanded, "Rònàn, Donal, bring the White Queen and Alice before me."

Placing Gwendolyn down, Donatello looked at the woman he had just kidnapped from her Court in the eyes and ordered with a growl, "Stay."

Eyes still huge, body stiff, she didn't give any indication if she was going to obey, but she didn't appear as if she was going to go anywhere either, so Donatello left her to walk across to Alice and brought her to stand before the Queen of Hearts as Raphael escorted the White Queen to do the same.

"Kneel!" the Queen of Hearts' voice was sharp and authoritative as the White Queen and Alice looked at each other before reluctantly complying.

Donatello and Raphael continued to stand beside their charges as the Queen of Hearts approached.

"I believe I have devised a most fitting end to both of your miserable lives," the Queen of Hearts mused maliciously. She waited a moment looking out at the crowd sitting in the bleachers before turning her attention back to her captives. "Off with their heads!" she proclaimed swinging her one arm in a slicing motion.

The crowd burst into cheers and both Alice and the White Queen gasped in shock. After all, none of this was supposed to be happening and there was not supposed to be an execution let alone the famous line pulled from the book and shouted out to the crowd.

The Queen of Hearts turned on her heel as Alice protested in a sputter of almost unintelligible words.

Pausing, the Queen of Hearts turned back around and walked back to her captives. "On second thought, I have a better idea," she mused lowly while the crowd groaned in disappointment.

"Your plan failed," the Queen of Hearts informed the White Queen. "I won. And as much as I would love to place your beauteous head upon a pike," she brushed her thumb across the White Queen's cheek, leaning in so that their lips were almost touching, "I think I would much rather see your lovely burnished hair grace my pillow instead. After all, I apparently have the ability to be fond of you."

The White Queen's stared at her rival in shock as her words slowly sank in. The Queen of Hearts leaned in and brushed her lips across the White Queen's pale ones, leaving a streak of red lipstick behind.

Eyes wide, the White Queen could only stare at the Queen of Hearts in mute astonishment.

Donatello felt his mouth drop in surprise at the display, his facial expression no doubt mirrored by everyone present.

Straightening, the Queen of Hearts licked her lips as if enjoying the taste of the other woman's lipstick.

Giving the White Queen a lascivious grin, the Queen of Hearts turned her attention to Alice, who looked completely dumbstruck.

"As for you, Alice, your fate will be quite different," she murmured softly. "I can barely remember being so pure and innocent. Seeing the look of horror on your face when you witnessed the men at my feet dying, and your disbelief when they fought each other to take their fallen comrades place, you could not fathom why they would court death just to be near me; to be in my presence and dare the repercussions of such actions." She smiled seductively.

"I am like the bright burning flame that attracts the moths that flutter around me, destined to die by the beauty they can't help but want to touch. You, my little Changeling, possess a bright light that attracts those around you. They wish to bask in your virtue and gentle beauty, but some crave the adrenalin pumping need to fly as close to the sun as they can so they can be burned by it." The Queen of Hearts smirked. "But I know that beneath that thin veneer of purity, that there is darkness in your heart."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed at the accusation. "No, there isn't," she ventured, obviously not knowing where Catherine was going with this, but willing to play it through.

"I saw the spark in your eyes; the curiosity of it, the temptation to wield and hold such power over others," the Queen of Hearts observed.

"You're wrong," Alice denied with a shake of her head.

The Queen of Hearts knelt down in front of Alice, a mysterious smile upon her face; as if she held some great secret she was not above sharing. "You will fall into the dark. You will be consumed by it, and you will_ revel_ in it," the Queen of Hearts stated emphatically.

"Never!" Alice snarled.

The Queen of Heart's grin widened. "Oh, but you will," she assured her. "You see, you believe yourself to be nothing more than a mortal child, but I know better. You were left in the place of a human babe, raised by humans, but you were always meant to find your way back eventually. Why you have come to _this_ time and in_ this_ place I do not know. I can only assume that the answer is that this is Wonderland, a world that is completely illogical and unrepentantly irrational."

"You have no idea what you're talking about. You're completely mad!" Alice accused.

"Unquestionably," the Queen of Hearts agreed with a smile. "But you see, my dear, Alice, the reason I know all of these things," she paused lifting her clawed fingers up to her mask, slowly pulling it from her face, "is because I AM _you_."

Silence greeted the revelation as the twin sisters stared at each other, the Queen's face paler and scarred, but indisputably the mirror of Alice's own.

"Peoooowhh," Michelangelo breathed out in awe, motioning with his hand as if his mind had just exploded.

Leonardo reached over and smacked their baby brother in the back of the head, to which he protested until Beowulf growled dangerously at them, ears flattened back against his skull as his targets moved without his Mistress' permission.

"Good, wolfy, nice wofly," Michelangelo soothed in a soft, frightened voice as the Queen of Hearts stood.

"You_ will_ be me. I _was_ you," the Queen of Hearts observed. "Or perhaps you won't be, it _is_ Wonderland after all." She smiled, placing her mask back upon her face and giving an indifferent shrug. "It matters not, it never did, and it never has. A new day will dawn in Wonderland, but until that moment, when I decide who lives and dies, the fae will complete their raid and dance until the moon wanes. To that end, let the Masque begin!" the Queen of Hearts announced with her arms lifted in the air as a roar went up from the crowd, the cameras ceased rolling, the music began and the Queen of Hearts gathered her prisoners to watch the festivities, bound in iron chains, at the foot of her throne.

The Queen of Hearts glanced over her shoulder at Donatello and gave him a curious look as if to ask him 'now what?' or 'are you finished yet?' and the truth was, he wasn't sure.

He had succeeded in gaining his revenge against Elizabeth and Sabrina, but he had the distinct impression that his antics had not phased Catherine one bit.

Shooting a glare Catherine's way, she gave him a look that positively dripped with feigned innocence that didn't fool him for a moment. Suddenly, he had the distinct impression that he had done exactly what she had wanted him to.

Which was impossible.

Sabrina's and Elizabeth's shock and bewilderment hadn't been feigned, they hadn't expected to lose, which meant that Catherine hadn't planned this. Or had she?

Narrowing his eyes, he scowled at her and stalked to her side, fury still simmering within him. But before he could reach her, Catherine turned, pulling a golden form with her.

"I believe this is yours," Catherine observed with a mischievous grin as he looked down into Gwendolyn's impossibly large doe-brown eyes.

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**Way to go Donny! XD**

**I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello all! I apologize for the late update. Summer is soooo busy, plot bunnies are evil and camping is so much fun! LOL Anywho, thank you so everyone who has read and reviewed this fic, I can't thank you guys enough!**

**Also, thank you so much to my lovely Beta Marie Allen for being amazing and beta reading this chapter for me!**

**And now, please enjoy!**

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Chapter 5

**Gwendolyn** had watched as Donal and…Leon? (she hadn't paid much attention to what his name was) were chosen to represent their respective Queens in battle for control of Wonderland.

Observing the performance up close had been thrilling and she was glad she had been invited to participate. She was amazed by the ability for the turtle–like fae characters to emote so well and move she had watched as Donal's name had been called and the surprise that had crossed over the features of both Raphael and Donal.

Raphael had looked as if he wished to argue, but the Queen was adamant that Donal show his worth.

It was not until the fight began that she truly appreciated the true magnificence of the costumes; their movements so free, fluid and unencumbered. She had not expected any other contact other than with their weapons, but they threw punches and kicks and she was standing close enough to see the contact.

The brutality of the blows should have torn silicone, unglued it from skin and smudged paint, but it didn't.

Awed by this, she knew that she had to convince Catherine to allow her to inspect the costumes -get down on her knees and beg if she had to.

Suddenly, she realized that the brawl that raged before her was not mere play-acting. She had seen enough fight 'productions' to know the difference between a real fight and a fake one, and this one was very real.

The swords that twirled and bit through the air with deadly grace cut through flesh and Donal _bled_.

Horror and apprehension filled her and she looked around at the faces surrounding her. All were cheering on the fighters and her eyes flew to Catherine, posed on her throne, a study of negligent indifference.

Heart beginning to pound in her chest, she watched as Donal picked up the blade he had managed to knock from the other fighter's hand. Donal was relentless and brutal, knocking Leon? to the ground, the sword poised above the other man's neck and Gwendolyn found herself holding her breath, wondering in fearful terror if Donal was actually going to kill him.

"Do you wish me to end him, or do you desire another toy to add to your collection, my Queen?" Donal asked, a dark smile twisting up the corners of his lips.

Gwendolyn found her hands rising up to stifle the gasp that escaped her mouth. There was part of her brain, the logical part, that was trying to calm her fears and assure her that this was all a well performed production, but the other part of her brain, that primal part that recognized danger, whispered to her that everything was very real and that Catherine may very well give the order to kill the one that lay prone on the ground, and she suspected that Donal would enjoy it; wanted it, _thirsted_ for it.

The Queen opted to spare the man's life, and Donal, placing his headdress back on his head, lifted his arms in victory, the crowd cheering him on.

Her hands dropped to her sides as Donal walked around, enjoying the adulations of the crowd, his steps bringing him closer to where the Seelie court stood in shock at the turn of events.

The suspicion that this victory had not been planned suddenly slipped into her mind, but was completely banished a moment later when Donal caught sight of her.

She felt as if she was looking into the eyes of a dangerous predator, and the smile that spread across his face did not alleviate her of this impression.

So heavy and filled with darkness was the look upon his features as he focused solely upon her, that she felt herself take an involuntary step back as he stalked towards her; the hunter pursuing his prey.

Her brain was screaming at her to run at the same time that uncertain fear held her feet in place. His hand quickly reached out, snagging her wrist and dragging her towards him.

Pressed up against his chest, she stared up at him, his dark, onyx eyes seeming to glow from the shadowed confines of his headdress.

The air between them crackled and she understood his intentions a moment before he acted, pulling her up and claiming her mouth in a searing kiss that shook her to her very core.

Her first instinct was to pull away, but she found herself responding hesitantly, the sudden frisson of awareness of his heady masculinity and forwardness lulled her momentarily until her brain managed to override her physical reaction and point out to her in rising panic, that his skin, his mouth, and everything about him felt too _real_.

Pulling back, she stared up in fearful, speculative horror, her mind not quite able to fully accept her sudden belief that what stood in front of her -had kissed her- was not a man in an elaborate makeup, but something else entirely.

He gave her a smile that sent shivers down her spine, as if he was fully aware of her thoughts and reveled in this knowledge.

Grabbing her about the waist, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She didn't make any protest as she was suddenly manhandled, her mind at war with itself.

"I take it you are claiming her as your spoils of war?" Catherine mused.

Donal answered, "It's my right. I won after all."

Gwendolyn stiffened at Catherine's reply of, "So you did."

An insane thought settled in her head that she had been thrust into Wonderland, and hadn't even realized it. Her mind plumbed the depths of her knowledge of fairy lore and she wondered if somehow Elizabeth's twin, was not really her twin at all, but some kind of twisted mirror image…a changeling poised on opposite sides of a war being played out before humanity as if it was a farce, but was completely genuine.

The reason this thought suddenly entered her mind was because of the look of complete and utter dumbstruck shock that hovered upon both Elizabeth and Sabrina's face.

Granted, it was the expected reaction to evil winning over good, but somehow, she knew that the two women she was being hauled away from weren't acting anymore.

She couldn't seem to hear, the blood was rushing too quickly through her ears, but she knew that the Queen of Hearts was talking, the demon wolf obeying her orders spoken in a tongue Gwendolyn didn't even recognize.

Suddenly, Gwendolyn found her feet upon the ground again with Donal looking at her with his dark eyes. "Stay," he ordered in a voice that was low, commanding, and contained a hint of a growl.

A moment later he turned away to do his Queen's bidding and she remained frozen in place.

Unlike Alice who was thrown into a world of madness and took everything in stride, Gwendolyn was so terrified of what she suspected was actually going on and of disobeying Donal, that escaping never even crossed her mind.

In fact, her mind was no longer a churning mass of half formed thoughts and fear laced emotion, instead, it was completely blank.

She watched as events unfolded before her, the Unseelie court pressed around her on all sides and she waited.

No plans came to her mind, no course of action niggled at her, she instead concentrated on staying on her feet and where she had been told.

Prisoners led to the foot of the throne, bound in heavy chains, Donal's eyes swept over his Queen and Gwendolyn felt chilled.

At least two-hundred pounds of furious turtle-fae vibrated in front of the amused Queen, and suddenly, Gwendolyn felt a hand wrap around her upper arm and she was yanked forward.

"I believe this is yours," the Queen observed and Gwendolyn stared up into the bottomless obsidian pits of the Unseelie fae's eyes as he stared down at her as if he had a moment of incomprehension as to who she was.

He blinked down at her, his face registering recognition before the anger drained from his face and he looked as if he was completely at a loss.

Donal took a step back, a look of horror crossing his features as he stared down at her, his face paling, which only confirmed her suspicion that he wasn't wearing a mask or any prosthetics at all.

Why he was suddenly filled with horror she wasn't sure, but she knew why she was. The small primal part of her mind that craved survival managed to spark her frozen muscles into motion and she took a step back, preparing to flee.

An arm snaked around her shoulders halting her movement and stopping her from taking flight from the madness that unfolded before her and she stiffened as some kind of soft, flowery scent filled her nostrils, a warm, feminine body pressing against her own.

"Do not worry," the Queen of Hearts began, her focus resting squarely upon Donal.

At that point, Gwendolyn didn't know who the queen was talking to, her or Donal -perhaps even both- but she did know that the woman's arm was slightly heavier and tighter than what was considered negligent or friendly.

"Donal holds the position of Lord of the Wild Hunt," the Queen of Hearts continued. "He collects those he stumbles upon and allows them to join the hunt. You are a companion only, not the prey, and the Lord of the Wild Hunt returns those he takes at the end of the evening. You are in no danger, Fae of the Golden Court."

The Queen of Heat's arm was lifted from her shoulders and Gwendolyn found herself trembling slightly as Donal looked back and forth between them.

He looked as if he was about to say something, his face becoming stern, anger flashing in his eyes, but he remained silent, his mouth snapping closed.

Gwendolyn wondered then if the Queen of Hearts was reminding Donal of the Rules. Fairies were very big on those from what she had heard. Of course, she could be wrong.

Swallowing roughly, her heart feeling as if it was about to burst free of her chest like a frightened bird, she had the impression that the Dark Fae Queen was giving her the choice to flee if she wished to.

The Queen of Hearts turned to walk away and Gwendolyn's eyes searched for the quickest escape route out of the insane situation she found herself in.

"Of course," the Queen of Heart's silky voice rode across her skin, rooting her to the spot, "I would never have thought that one such as yourself would squander such an opportunity."

Gwendolyn looked over at the Dark Queen as she studied her from over her shoulder, and Gwendolyn had no doubt that the queen's words were meant for her.

_One such as me? Opportunity?_ she wondered in her head, her tongue still painfully inert.

Apparently something in her expression must have given away her thoughts or the queen was a mind-reader. Either way, the Queen of Hearts answered her unspoken questions.

"You always struck me as being a dreamer," the queen mused as she gave a genuine smile that was only marred by the flash of sharpened canines. "And you now have been given the chance to live the dream."

The Queen of Hearts, finished with her observation, moved away, intent upon sitting upon her throne, her disgruntled prisoners sprawled at her feet.

_A dreamer?_ Gwendolyn wondered, some of the panic and terror that had previously thrummed through her veins like a relentless river, abating slightly to allow her thought._ The chance to live the dream…_

Twin puffs of condensation made visible by the chill in the October air were created when Donal huffed out his obvious displeasure through his nostrils, his gaze resting upon his queen. While studying his features, she had to admit that there was a kind of beauty to them.

It was in that moment that Gwendolyn had a moment of epiphany.

Any doubts she harboured that the creature before her was not human –not that many had remained anyway, but still- were completely banished and this small bit of comprehension was as terrifying as it was both exhilarating and oddly freeing.

Here she was, standing in the midst of something she had always fantasized about: pretending to be someone different, immersed in a fantastical situation and surrounded by creatures that were not human.

She had literally been dragged into something out of a comic book/manga/movie and her first reaction was to run away?!

Her inner nerd just walked up to her and slapped her across the face with a white leather glove because she was challenging herself.

Biting her lip, she paused in indecision. Her blood still thrummed with adrenalin and fear, but it was beginning to fade, being replaced instead with a kind of nervous energy. She wondered if this is how Alice felt, standing at the edge of the rabbit hole contemplating upon remaining in safety or taking a chance and having a great adventure.

Standing straighter, she felt determination fill her. If Alice was brave enough to take that step –and yes she was aware that Alice was a fictional character… She glanced over at Elizabeth… Reasonably sure anyway… Then she was going to take that step.

"Does the Lord of the Wild Hunt dance?"she found herself asking.

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**Donatello's** head snapped around at the sound of Gwendolyn's question, his ineffective, deadly glare leveled at Catherine brought to a halt as Gwendolyn's hesitant, nervous voice finally permeated the buzzing anger that had filled his brain.

He had been furious with Catherine and about to give her a stern tongue lashing, when that intention was brought to a grinding halt when she had shoved Gwendolyn in his face. His anger had faded momentarily before it was completely snuffed out by the absolute terror that swam in Gwendolyn's eyes.

It was then that he realized that she knew that he was not just a man in a costume, but something inhuman, and she was terrified of this.

He felt his heart twist in agony, but at the same time, he acknowledged that he could expect no less. The fact that Catherine had not been bothered by the fact that Leonardo was a mutant turtle was a miracle; Elizabeth accepting this as well was unbelievable; Sabrina embracing Michelangelo with open arms defied all logic, and yet here he was expecting this phenomenon to happen a _fourth_ time.

Wallowing in despair for a brief moment, his anger was reignited when Catherine stopped Gwendolyn from running away -something the young woman quite obviously wanted to do- and Donatello was furious that Catherine seemed to be playing some kind of sick and twisted game with Gwendolyn because it amused her.

He had been about to say something, but had thought better of it, deciding that if he didn't give Catherine any more fodder with which to torment him, she would just leave and he could disappear into the shadows and Gwendolyn could stay or go, whatever she wished.

Only when she was free, she hadn't run.

"D-Dance?" he stammered out in shock, staring into doe-brown eyes that were no longer filled with fear, but with a determined light that caused his shoulders to relax even as his mind began swirling with confused thoughts and emotions.

In the space of a minute Gwendolyn had divested herself of her terror and was now looking at him with curious expectation that sent his heart to skitter in his chest and his stomach to flip-flop uncomfortably.

"Yeah," Gwendolyn answered. "Faeries love to dance," she continued, seemingly unsure of herself. "Don't they?"

Donatello felt a sweat break out across his skin.

Generally speaking, his family didn't dance. Michelangelo could bust out some serious moves, but those were of a solo nature and Donatello had never had the inclination or the want to emulate his baby brother.

He had only ever danced once in his life and that was with Catherine at her wedding.

A quick glance towards his brothers indicated that they weren't going to be dancing, given the fact that Raphael was playing guard to Catherine's 'Queen' and Leonardo and Michelangelo were 'prisoners'.

His gaze shifted to the dance floor which was filled with costumed dancers as they swirled around to what sounded like Celtic music; heavy on harp, string and pipe instruments.

It was a fast-paced song, something he would liken to a jig, but suddenly, the song switched to one that was more soulful and mellow, and the dance partners in turn moved closer and slowed their movements.

Donatello felt himself swallow, studied the other dancers movements for a moment and nodded his head, knowing that he could copy their movements without too much difficulty.

Apparently Gwendolyn took his head nod for affirmation that he liked to dance because she said, "Great."

Looking down at her, he wasn't about to disabuse her of this notion, because even though she knew that he wasn't human and she was still afraid of him, she had asked him to dance anyway, and he wasn't going to say no.

She reached out, but she paused, staring at his three fingered hand. Donatello felt himself tense as he waited for her to recoil, but her fingers hovered there as she looked up at him, checking his reaction, almost as if she unsure if she was allowed to touch him.

Twisting his hand so that his palm faced upwards, he waited until she tentatively and trustingly placed her hand in his.

In a courtly manner, he led her out onto the dance floor, checked the dancers one more time, and placed his hand upon Gwendolyn's waist swinging them both into the ebb and flow of the couples around them.

He felt uncomfortable at first, holding himself stiffly as he tried to concentrate on what his feet were doing and ignore the blush that was slowly spreading across his cheeks at Gwendolyn's nearness.

The other dancers occasionally stumbled into them, causing her lithe form to press up against his and he tried to look anywhere but at her; not brave enough to see her reaction. If it was fear or disgust, he didn't think he could bear it, and so he looked towards the throne and tried not to die of embarrassment when Michelangelo slyly gave him a wide grin and a double thumbs-up.

He repressed a groan and closed his eyes briefly, suddenly gaining insight into the 'awkward dance' that so permeated movies and TV where the friends or family members sat on the sidelines cheering the impromptu couple on.

Opening his eyes, they twirled so that he was again able to glance back at his family and he studied Catherine sitting negligently upon her throne looking to all the world like an ancient queen suffering extreme ennui. But as soon as he caught her gaze she grinned at him and he was pretty sure she winked at him.

Donatello twirled again, dancers blocking his view and he tried to peer over and around them because like most of the evening, he had the distinct impression that he was doing exactly what she wanted him to do.

"Do you think your…Queen will have a problem with you dancing with me?" Gwendolyn asked in a soft, hesitant voice and Donatello found his gaze snapping back to hers.

His mind tried to comprehend the simple question before he remembered that he was playing the role of Consort to the Queen of Hearts and Gwendolyn was playing the part of a prisoner of war, dancing with the enemy.

Debating with himself if he should continue with the role he had been assigned or just be himself, he found himself saying, "She has my brother to keep her company." It was the truth of both his character and reality and it gave him an extra moment to decide if he would be Donal or Donatello.

"Uh…right," she answered as if she wasn't really sure how to take his reply and Donatello decided at that moment to be Donal. She had asked him about his 'Queen' instead of Catherine, and he understood this to mean that she wanted to stay immersed in the fantasy world that had been carefully constructed around them, and Donatello feared that if he became Donatello, this fragile illusion would shatter and Gwendolyn would flee from his arms as reality set in.

Donal was much more confident and enigmatic than he was, which meant it was better this way. She could converse with Donal, Lord of the Wild Hunt as opposed to Donatello, the mutant ninja turtle who lived in a sewer, was socially awkward and painfully geeky.

Having made the decision, he gave her a lopsided grin, "She allowed me to claim my prize," he continued as he looked down at her. "Why? Are you jealous?" he asked in a voice that was as tempting as sin, and he marveled at how that cadence came out of his mouth.

Gwendolyn smiled at him nervously. "Just making sure she doesn't decide to lop off my head," she replied back.

Donatello found himself smiling as he relaxed into his character. "She does not do that half as much as she threatens it," he quipped.

She gave a quick smile, her gaze drawn back to the throne. "The White Queen, Alice and your brothers…they're going to be okay, right?"

He chuckled. "Bruised egos aside, they will be fine," he answered with a grin, not able to contain the small spark of glee he felt at being able to hold it over Leonardo's head that he had beat him in a sparring match. "It's all…" he paused as he searched for the right words. It wasn't fake -his and Leonardo's fight had been very real- but it wasn't _real_ either. "… a game. We won and everyone will go back to doing what they were doing before tonight."

Gwendolyn seemed to relax in relief. "So you won't be Lord of the Wild Hunt after tonight?"

"I get to hang up my antlers," he said with a smile, looking forward to getting the heavy headdress off his head.

"So…nothing is real?" she wondered and almost looked disappointed.

"It depends what you mean by 'real,'" he responded, not sure exactly what she was asking him.

She bit her lip and stared at their hands clasped together. "The swords were real," she said quietly and Donatello studied the two long cuts Leonardo had given him. They were not serious enough to need stitches but deep enough to have bled.

"Yes," he answered.

"The fight was real." A statement, not a question.

"Yes," he answered anyway as he avoided a pair of Unseelie fairies who looked as if they had probably had too much to drink.

"And you're real?" she wondered.

"As real as you," he answered with a non-answer.

She looked annoyed and he thought that she looked adorable.

"I _mean,_" she emphasized the word as she lowered her voice, "you're really _real_." Opening his mouth she narrowed her eyes in anger. "As in not human," she insisted before he was able to give another non-answer.

He realized that he was enjoying teasing her and liked the way her eyes looked when they were sparking with fire.

"Does that scare you?" he asked, not quite an admission that he was inhuman, but close enough that she took it.

He waited, suddenly apprehensive as she seemed to seriously contemplate his question, which he had intended to come out as teasing, but had instead been delivered in a serious tone.

"A little," she admitted.

"Good," Donatello said in a husky tone with a dangerous grin, his persona of Donal firmly back in place because Donal would revel in the fear, Donatello would flinch at the stinging hurt of it.

Her eyes were wide again, fear slipping back into them, but there was something else, something that gave his heart a spark of hope: interest.

As much as she was apparently wary of him, she also seemed to be intrigued at the same time; an assumption he arrived at by the fact that she hadn't run away screaming yet.

Donatello twirled her around again, his body finding a comfortable rhythm as he equated the dance moves with the repetition of his katas. The music changed and though some dancers left the floor, he and Gwendolyn continued on without even missing a beat, the song keeping the same gentle, soft, slow tone as the previous one.

Gwendolyn looked at him, her eyes contemplative. She looked as if she wanted to ask him a question, but was unsure how to do so. Not knowing how to prompt her, they remained in silence for a few moments until she finally wondered, "Are you really the last of your kind?" her soft tone indicating her reluctance to broach what she believed to be a possibly sensitive subject.

"My brothers and I are the only ones of our kind," he answered truthfully.

It was a depressing reality, but one he was used to; one he never really thought much about until his brothers had begun to find their own mates, leaving him to feel that sudden loneliness which was as sharply as Leonardo's finely honed blades.

"That must be…lonely," she offered, echoing his exact sentiments.

He looked over to where his brothers and their mates sat and was about to nod in agreement, but paused. Michelangelo was laughing at something that Sabrina whispered to him as Leonardo gave their baby brother a quelling glance, Elizabeth rolled her eyes, Raphael glared and Catherine sat watching it all with a mysterious, amused and knowing grin settling across her ruby red lips.

Catherine, as if sensing his gaze, glanced over at him and gave him a pleased and genuine smile which he returned.

It was true it was a very solitary existence he and his brothers lived, and no matter how lonely he felt, he wasn't alone, far from it, and all because Catherine had discovered a real mutant turtle amongst a group of larping Halloween revelers and had accepted this fact without fear, and extended her hand in friendship towards their family.

"It was," he began slowly, answering Gwendolyn's question, "but not anymore," he finished truthfully as he turned his attention back to Gwendolyn, who was looking at him with an intensity that gave him pause.

They fell into another silence and Donatello watched the emotions that flitted across her face.

Her attention was trained upon the throne where Catherine was now standing, looking in their direction.

"You really love her, don't you?" she observed softly.

Frowning in confusion, he looked down at her before his gaze shot back to Catherine who had vanished from the throne.

"I-"

"My Lord of the Wild Hunt." Catherine was at his side and he stopped dancing, Gwendolyn moving away slightly away as he felt himself nearly jump in surprise, not believing that Catherine had managed to sneak up on him. "It is time."

He blinked at her as his mind attempted to understand what she was talking about, and then he realized that it must be only moments until midnight.

"So unless you intend to keep this Golden Fae, you need to relinquish her," Catherine continued, studying Gwendolyn who edged away slightly.

About to protest having to let Gwendolyn go, the worry and fear seeping into the young woman's eyes stilled his tongue.

Feeling his heart drop, Catherine suddenly whispered in his ear before she turned away, the crowd parting before her and he marveled at this before he turned his attention back to Gwendolyn, who was edging farther away from him, but was unable to get away completely as he still had hold of her hand.

Pulling her back towards him, she stumbled and he caught her. He could feel her body trembling slightly as her eyes filled completely with terror.

He relaxed, Catherine's words soothing both his heart and his mind as he looked down into Gwendolyn's doe-coloured eyes.

"As tempting as it would be to keep you," he began his voice lowering an octave as Donal completely took over, "I will not." He parroted Catherine's hushed words, encouraging him that if he liked Gwendolyn and wanted to see her again, to say and do what she told him.

Gwendolyn relaxed for a moment and he took the opportunity to tip her chin up with his finger. "I do not think you would thank me for the experience," he paused dramatically for a moment, "at least not yet." He gave what he hoped was a devilish, disarming smile, lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it before he let it go and slid into the crowd that surrounded them.

The loud toll of a bell and the sound of birds suddenly taking flight echoed across the dance floor.

The dancers stopped, the music, ceasing as a hush fell over the crowd and all eyes turned to the throne, where Donatello now stood by the Queen of Heart's side, along with the rest of his family.

"The midnight hour tolls and the fairy raid ends!" The Queen of Hearts announced announced.

The bell tolled again, the wings of birds in flight becoming louder.

They didn't need special effects to vanish, all they needed was ninja skills.

Donatello slipped into the shadows as easily as if he was pulling on a comfortable cloak, his brothers grabbing their mates and doing the same.

The stage was suddenly empty and the crowd look around in amazement.

Taking one last look at Gwendolyn who stood as still as a statue, her wide eyes searching the darkness, he pulled back farther into the inky night and followed his family, wondering if he would ever see her again, and if both of them were brave enough to try.

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**I hope everyone enjoyed! XD**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey all! Yay update! And it hasn't even been ridiculously long since the last chapter was posted! Yay! Getting back into the groove of things:)**

**Thank you to everyone who was kind enough to leave a review and who has continued to read this fic! I really appreciate it!**

**Also a giant thank you to Marie Allen for beta reading this chapter for me and acting as my sounding board for ideas XD Thank you so much!**

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Chapter 6

**Gwendolyn** watched as the group in front of her vanished into the night as if they had never graced the ominously lit stage.

When the lights were turned on their brightest setting to illuminate the empty stage to allow camera, lighting and sound crews to begin the arduous task of cleaning up, there was no sign of the main group.

For some reason, she had expected the players in the drama that had been enacted before them to step out and take a bow -even knowing what she knew- but they didn't.

They had literally vanished into the darkened night and she was left feeling slightly bereft and as if nothing in her well-ordered life was real.

Swallowing roughly, she tried to still her rapidly beating heart.

She had been enjoying her dance with the Lord of the Wild Hunt. He had become slightly less intimidating and she had gathered up her courage to talk with him.

His answers had been delivered in a series of non-answers that had annoyed her. She had then realized that he seemed to delight in this, catching a twinkle of amusement in his dark eyes, and she found that this had somehow put her at ease.

But then the night had come to an end and for a moment, she had been terrified that Donal was going to 'keep her' as the Queen of Hearts had suggested, and she couldn't help the sudden fear that gripped her heart that he might do just that.

Gwen couldn't believe that she had instinctually attempted to slip away, even though her hand had remained in Donal's strong, calloused grip, but she had, and he hadn't released her when he discovered this. Instead, he had pulled her against the hard planes of his body, trapping her with his gaze.

Positive that her heart was actually going to burst free from her chest at any moment, her fear seemed to delight him.

His words, given in a smooth, low octave that was as rich as dark chocolate, calmed her fears and she found her heart was suddenly beating much too quickly and now for a completely different reason.

Her breath had caught in her throat when he had tipped her chin up and for a fleeting moment, she had thought he was going to kiss her again.

When he hadn't, she wasn't sure whether she had felt relieved or crushingly disappointed, but she had to admit that she had felt a thrill of pleased flattery fill her when he had given her a mischievous, knowing smile that turned her heart into some kind of squishy goo and kissed the back of her hand in a very old-fashioned manner that suddenly had her feeling the need to advocate bringing the practice back into style.

The spot where his lips had met her flesh burned, and even after minutes had passed she could still feel the warmth of his breath.

Giving her head a quick shake to clear it, she turned and slowly made her way back to her trailer, questioning everything from her friendship with Sabrina to the real identity of the twins.

By the time she reached the trailer, she had almost convinced herself that Donal was just a guy in a really, really, REALLY good costume and that Catherine and Elizabeth were way too into cosplay.

Hand resting upon the door handle, she leaned forward and placed her forehead upon the cool metal. "Except I'm being stupid," she chastised herself under her breath.

Convincing herself that everything was fake wasn't helping her in any way. It didn't make her feel any less disconnected or frightened.

She placed her foot upon the first step.

Accepting everything that had happened would give her power to control…

What?

What exactly was it that she wished to control?

The night was over.

Turning, she lowered herself so that she could sit down upon the step. Placing her hands into her lap, she clasped them together and looked up into the clear night sky.

She had gathered her courage and decided to revel in the knowledge that she was in the presence of something otherworldly and had asked the Lord of the Wild Hunt to _dance_.

Then, after it was all over, she had decided to pretend none of it was real? She needed someone to slap her across the face. Hard.

It wasn't as if she was going to tell anyone –no one would believe her anyway- but instead of trying to discard the memory, she should be cherishing it.

She had been given the opportunity to see past the veil, and she had to admit, though she had been terrified, she had also been exhilarated when dancing in the arms of the inhuman male.

His movements of the dance had been just as careful as the ones he had used in the challenge. That kind of deadly grace and control was as thrilling as it was terrifying.

But…

Donal had held her as if she had been made of spun glass. He seemed gentle, quiet -harmless even- until his dark gaze met hers. His incredibly intelligent eyes were weighted by heavy knowledge that bore into her with an intensity that had made her catch her breath on more than a few occasions.

Though not human, there was a hard masculinity to him that made her feel delicate and feminine, something she was not used to.

Standing among the likes of the two twins and Sabrina, she felt like the proverbial awkward, ugly, duckling pretending to be a beautiful, graceful swan.

Shoulders slumping slightly in dejection, she stood and admitted to herself that even if he had enjoyed her company and had even threatened to 'keep her,' she hadn't held his full attention. That honour had been given to the Queen of Hearts.

Not that she could blame him.

Catherine and Elizabeth were both stunning, but Catherine had _presence_. It was the kind of thing that few people possessed, but it was a charismatic kind of charm that drew people in and entranced them.

At this depressing thought, she reached up and placed her hand upon the door handle again, wondering why she craved Donal's attention so much anyway?

Sure, it had been a while since she had dated anyone. But just because she had found more than her fair share of Mr. Wrongs did not mean that she had to give up on the men of her species and try her hand at an inhuman male who was definitely dangerous and completely unavailable.

After all, it wasn't as if she was ever going to see him again. He had literally vanished into thin air to the place where whatever he was disappeared to when they weren't larping around on Halloween pretending to be humans dressed up in costumes.

He could be in Wonderland for all she knew.

Opening the door, she strode up the steps and entered the trailer, closing the door firmly behind her.

Sighing a little dejectedly, she glanced around the trailer, intent on removing her makeup and changing back into some comfortable clothes because the clock had struck midnight, her fairy godmother's spell had worn off, and she had to settle back into her everyday reality.

Something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye, and slowly turning her head, she observed a bouquet of flowers sitting upon her makeup table.

Dyed purple roses were surrounded by lavender and tiny sprigs of aster.

Carefully approaching the vase, she glanced around the trailer, making sure that there was no one lying in wait, and discovering herself to be very much alone, turned her attention back to the flowers.

Reaching out, she touched the velvety soft surface of a rose petal and counted six roses in total.

The arrangement was beautiful and though Donal's face rose into her mind for some reason, and she felt her heart speed up rapidly at this, she quickly dismissed this assumption as being ridiculous.

The flowers had probably been given in thanks to everyone who had helped with the event, and just because the flowers happened to be purple, like Donal's mask when he had first entered her trailer, did not mean that they had been sent by him.

Besides, there was no way he could have placed them inside. She had been with him the entire time, and he wouldn't have been able to go out and buy a bouquet for her in the amount of time it had taken him to vanish and for her to walk to her trailer.

She scoffed at this last thought.

Faeries buying flowers, what would she think of next?

Eyes straying to back to the bouquet, she saw a small white envelope tucked into the blooms.

Smiling to herself, she shook her head, knowing that if she wasn't such an idiot mooning over a guy who probably hadn't thought about her once since he vanished with his gorgeous Queen, she would have noticed the card sooner and wouldn't have been standing around wondering who had sent the flowers while secretly hoping they had been given by _him_.

"Man, if I'm this bad after one dance, just imagine how far gone I'd be if we went on a date?" she asked herself aloud as she reached for the card. "If faeries date that is…" she added as an afterthought.

Biting her lip, she stopped mid-motion before following through and plucking the card from the delicate blooms. Tearing up the corner of the envelope to allow her access to the card, she stopped and flipped the envelope over.

She studied her name 'Gwen' written in a scrawling, yet oddly elegant script. She tried to figure out if the writing was more feminine or masculine and couldn't decide either way. It didn't look overly feminine, but… She wondered if she was just trying to convince herself that it was somehow masculine.

But even if it had been written by a male, there was no guarantee it hadn't been some assistant whose job it was to send out thank you cards and flowers.

It would be disheartening to open the card and find a generic 'thank you' from the production company that had been hired to help with the event.

Even more depressing would be a card that wasn't even handwritten, but typed with a business card tucked inside.

Gwen gave a shudder.

Tucking the card back into the bouquet, she decided that she wasn't going to open it. This way, she could pretend that the flowers were sent from a secret admirer and if this person just happened to be green and not human, well, she wasn't doing to delve too deeply into that line of thought.

She began packing up all of her gear, which took much longer than she had anticipated because she found herself daydreaming; replaying the night over and over in her mind, wishing that she had done or said things differently.

Deciding that she would change when she got home, she began packing away her belongings into her Dodge Neon before making one last trip into the trailer.

Eyes scanning all of the surfaces to make sure she hadn't left anything behind, she grabbed the bouquet and left the trailer, placing the flowers gently on the passenger seat next to her, hoping they would make it back to her apartment in one piece.

Heading home, she planned to get changed before falling into bed, trying to ignore the heavy dread that settled into her gut that when she woke up in the morning, she was going to find that everything that had happened had been nothing more than a dream.

* * *

**Donatello** dragged his hands down his face as he let the heated water sluice down his body in an attempt to loosen his muscles and wash away the remains of the makeup that covered his body and get rid of the pungent smell of the wipes given to him by Sabrina to help in the removal of the thick makeup.

Feeling lighter after the removal of his costume, he had hoped that his mood would be lifted as well. Instead, he remained weighted down with some unknown emotion he could not quite identify.

He wasn't depressed or despondent, but he had to admit that he felt a certain gloominess creeping into his usually even-tempered, collected demeanour.

Tipping his face into the stream of water that sprayed down upon him, he stood for a moment before turning the tap off, but continued to stand in the steam his shower had created.

Opening the glass door, he finally stepped out into the warm bathroom and grabbed a towel from a hook, slowly drying himself off while his mind ground to a halt with exhaustion.

He had felt so drained when he had gotten back to the lair, that if the costume hadn't been so cumbersome and the makeup a pain to get out of his sheets, he would have just fallen straight into bed.

Wiping away the fog that had formed upon the mirror's surface, he only took a perfunctory look at himself, making sure he had managed to remove all of the makeup, before he strode from the bathroom with only the towel wrapped around his waist.

Walking through the lair, he noticed how painfully quiet it was.

He had been the only one to return home after the Halloween event. Michelangelo and Leonardo had both gone with Sabrina and Elizabeth back to the Brownstone, while Raphael and Catherine had vanished somewhere -possibly to make sure everything was wrapped up satisfactorily- but Donatello had no doubt they would be making their way back to the Brownstone as well.

If he was being honest with himself, he was glad that he was alone. The thought of going back to the lair alone had been a dismal one, but he had been thankful of it the moment he had been in the presence of the couples that stood around him.

His brothers and their mates had all been dripping in pheromones and he couldn't get away fast enough.

Striding into his bedroom, he rooted around through his dresser drawer looking for a comfortable pair of sweats to wear to bed.

"Hello, Donatello," Catherine's bright voice chirped at him from over his shoulder and he felt every muscle in his body stiffen in surprise.

Slowly turning his head to look at her from over his shoulder, his eyes confirmed what his ears had told him.

Still dressed as the Queen of Hearts, Catherine was leaning negligently against his doorframe, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Miss me?" she asked with a wink.

"What are you doing here?" he yelped in surprise while his eyes desperately searched the hallway behind her looking for Raphael. "Are you trying to get me killed?" he hissed. "Raph's already angry with me!"

Catherine chuckled as she pushed herself away from the doorframe and placed a finger against her lips in a silencing motion.

Removing her finger from where it lay, she gave him a pout, that didn't quite reach her eyes which glittered at him mischievously behind her mask. "You're not being very nice," Catherine observed sulkily.

"Catherine, please get out, I'm tired and want to go to sleep." Pausing in thought he added, "And I want to continue _breathing._"

Having Raphael come upon them at this moment would no doubt result in him being pummelled to within an inch of his life. Raphael had already sworn to him that the discussion that had been interrupted earlier in the evening was not over and he wanted to delay the inevitability of that as long as possible.

Catherine's grin grew. "Sleeping is the _last _thing you will be doing tonight, Donatello," she told him in a sinfully low voice that slid like silky velvet across his skin.

Swallowing roughly, his mouth suddenly dry, Donatello took a step back, his carapace hitting against his dresser and he suddenly remembered that he was only wearing a towel.

"C-Catherine," he stammered, holding out his sweatpants as if this was some sort of shield against the woman who smiled seductively at him from the doorway.

"You are acting so reluctant." She shook her head disappointingly. "But that's okay, I know what you want."

"You're Raph's wife!" he said to her, his heart pounding erratically in his chest as he felt the traitorous attraction he had for his brother's mate rush through his veins.

"What has that to do with anything?" she asked in confusion, her head tipping to the side curiously.

Donatello stared at her, completely nonplused at her response.

Collecting himself, he shouted, "Everything!"

"I'm only here because I brought you a gift," Catherine said to him with an impish smile.

"A gift?" he parroted numbly, knowing that whatever 'gift' Catherine was offering, he probably didn't want it, or if he did, he would very much regret the acceptance of it.

Catherine laughed. "A _gift,_" she assured him brightly as she vanished from his doorway, only to return a moment later pulling something with her.

"Gwen?" Donatello gasped in shock as the young woman, still dressed as the golden fairy of the Court of Light, stumbled into his room; Catherine's hand upon her upper arm the only thing stopping her from pitching forward and onto the hard stone floor.

Large, doe-brown eyes looked upon him with fear as his gaze shot to Catherine who was smiling at him knowingly, her shadowed eyes containing a sharp darkness that bordered on viciousness.

"Catherine…wh-what's going on? Why? How?" he asked in rapid succession, his breath quickening as he tried to find somewhere to, run -to hide- but found himself trapped against the dresser with nowhere to go.

"You claimed her as your prize, but you left her behind and I couldn't understand why. But then I figured it out." She smiled broadly, sharp canines glinting in the artificial light.

Donatello eyes caught Gwendolyn's frightened, pleading gaze. "Gwen, I-I don't-"

"You were denied your prey," Catherine sharply interrupted him as she walked further into his room, dragging Gwendolyn with her.

"What?!" he gaped in horror as he shook his head back and forth in denial, not knowing what Catherine was talking about, but seriously questioning her current state of mind.

"You are my Lord of the Wild Hunt, Donatello," Catherine informed him.

"No! I-" he began but suddenly felt the weight of the headdress he had worn earlier in the evening upon his head.

Looking down at himself, he realized he was dressed as he had been, in the guise of Donal, Lord of the Wild hunt.

Glancing back up at Catherine in shock, he saw her grin in sly satisfaction. "Admit it, Donatello, you let her go because you wanted the chance to _hunt_ her."

Transferring his attention back to Gwendolyn, he felt it then, the sudden desire to watch her run and chase her until he caught her.

And he _would_ catch her.

Smiling in anticipation of what was to come, he simply answered, "Yes."

Gwendolyn whimpered and shrunk back as Catherine laughed and let go of the other woman's arm.

Taking one last look at him, as if trying to find a hint of mercy or kindness in his gaze, she must have found none because Gwendolyn bolted from his bedroom.

"Let the hunt, begin!" Catherine proclaimed in ringing accents and Donatello…

Jolted awake, crashing to the ground in a tangle of bed sheets and a heavy comforter.

Breathing hard, he felt out of breath and his skin was crawling with adrenalin. Looking at his clock, he observed the time of 6:00 am in glowing green LED numbers.

Groaning in displeasure at the earliness of the hour, he twisted himself free from his bedding and stood, the memories of the dream he had just had still brilliantly vivid in his mind.

Dragging his hands down his face, he grimaced to himself and tried to get his heartrate under control while vowing to himself to never help Catherine with any more of her schemes_ ever_ again.

Taking a deep breath, he realized that he was never going to get back to sleep, feeling oddly wide awake even though he had only a few hours of sleep.

Pulling on a balled up t-shirt he found his floor, he shuffled from his bedroom, intent on making a pot of coffee and pushing his strange dream into the far back corner of his brain.

Unfortunately for him, the thoughts he attempted to banish seemed intent on shoving themselves to the forefront of his mind, forcing him to address them.

It didn't take a genius to interpret the meaning of the dream. His subconscious, in the form of Catherine, was goading him and telling him that he wanted some kind of relationship with Gwendolyn.

He could admit that he liked her and he wouldn't mind getting to know her better, but…he wasn't Donal, Lord of the Wild Hunt, which was both a good and bad thing. He was a ninja, which would be considered 'cool', but he was also a shy, nerdy, mutated turtle with questionable social skills. Donal was strong, confident and outgoing, but his character was also that of a bloodthirsty killer that stalked the night in pursuit of amusement and death.

'Donal' thirsted for the hunt, but Gwendolyn was not _prey_. She was not a _thing_ to be toyed with; she was a woman with thoughts, feelings and emotions.

Gwendolyn, though hesitantly accepting of what he was, was terrified of him; a circumstance which had been aptly reflected in his dream.

She wasn't Catherine, Elizabeth or even Sabrina. Those three women had accepted, without thought or question, what they were and Gwendolyn hadn't.

Lightning would not strike a fourth time and the sooner he acknowledged this, the sooner he would be able to get Gwendolyn out of his head and accept his very permanent, solitary life.

Shambling into the kitchen, his shoulders slumped in what felt like soul-crushing defeat, he stopped dead at the sight of Catherine standing in front of the stove wearing a set of flannel pajamas with stylized foxes dotting the pink fabric.

Like the devil come to call upon him after she had been in his thoughts, his mind could not seem to grasp the reality of this domestic scene and he was pretty sure that either he had done something truly horrific in a past life that was being visited upon him in a very karmic way, or he was still sleeping.

Though his senses were filled with the scent of pancakes cooking upon a griddle and coffee percolating in the pot, he pinched himself anyway and found the slight sting of sensation bite his skin.

"Good Morning, Donatello," Catherine said perkily as she looked at him over her shoulder and gave him a wide grin.

Knowing he hadn't made a sound, he was unsure how Catherine had detected his presence, but didn't bother to ask. Instead he wondered, "What are you doing?"

"Making pancakes," she answered easily. "Want some?" she asked as she set some pancakes upon a plate, and not waiting for an answer placed three pancakes on another.

Switching off the burner and removing the pan, she turned and walked to the table, placing the two plates upon the tabletop.

Figuring he was already in for a penny and a pound by this point, he decided that if Raphael walked in and opted to beat him to within an inch of his life, he was okay with it.

He walked further into the kitchen and sat down at his spot where the plate with three pancakes had been placed.

"I _meant_," he enunciated succinctly, knowing that Catherine was being purposefully obtuse. "What are you doing _here_? And where's Raph?"

"Raphael is still sleeping," Catherine informed him as she bustled about, grabbing up some utensils, the butter dish, and the bottle of maple syrup.

Placing them on the table, she again turned away, opening the cupboard and taking out a mug. Walking over to the coffee pot, she filled the mug to the brim and put the pot back in the coffee maker.

Striding back to the table, she placed the mug down in front of him and took the seat to his right.

"As to why we are here, where else would Raphael and I stay?" Catherine asked, titling her head to the side in question.

"The Brownstone," he answered.

Catherine looked at him as she began buttering her pancakes, pouring syrup on them and cutting them into neat squares. "Why would we stay at the Brownstone?"

"Why would you stay _here_?" he countered. "You've been staying at the Brownstone since you guys got here."

"True," Catherine answered. "But, I am avoiding my sister," she said with a sly smile and a wink.

"Why?" Donatello asked in confusion.

"Well, for one thing, Elizabeth isn't very pleased with the fact that the Unseelie court won and I revealed the twist ending of the graphic novel in the process."

Guilt filled him and he looked down at his pancakes, not feeling hungry in the least. Catherine pushed the bottle of maple syrup towards him.

"Don't feel guilty, Donatello. I stomped on every single button you have," she said with an apologetic smile.

Donatello let out a huff at the apology, but his mind was focused on the fact that he had watched Catherine be on the receiving end of one of Elizabeth's angry tirades and he knew that she always had an answer for everything and brushed away every point her older sister made. So her avoidance of Elizabeth seemed suspect. Catherine had also said 'For one thing', meaning that there was another reason.

"But I'm not sorry I did." Catherine continued, distracting him from his suspicious thoughts. "I'm glad you beat Leonardo. He needed to be taken down a peg and you needed a win."

His head shot up at this and he found himself glaring at her, finally understanding why she and Raphael were at the lair instead of the Brownstone. "I'm not a child," he bit out angrily. "You didn't have to stay the night because you thought I shouldn't be alone," he growled. "And you can save your pity for someone else," he added bitterly, furious that Catherine had felt so sorry for him, that she had orchestrated and manipulated an entire evening to revolve around making him feel better about himself, which should have been touching, but instead felt patronizing.

Catherine laughed; her smile bright and filled with amusement which caused his anger to completely drain away. Staying angry with Catherine was like trying to explain String Theory to a cat, completely and utterly impossible.

Giving an appreciative quirk of her lips Catherine explained, "We both know that Elizabeth's temper is a force of continuous energy, not dying out until it has been expelled at its intended target, in this case, me. So avoidance is futile, but I was avoiding her for another reason besides not wanted to be on the receiving end of a lecture. I think Leonardo has been giving her tips," she said with a joking smile. "It is not, however, because I felt that you needed the company. I was being polite and because we were at the table eating, I was refraining from giving a full account of the details, but if you insist," Catherine paused for a moment, giving him the chance to protest, but he didn't, so she continued: "Raphael was complaining he could barely breathe because of the amount of pheromones and quote: 'There's no way in hell I'm goin' back to the Brownstone. I already got enough mental scars, I don't need to hear or accidentally see Mikey an' Leo havin' sex.' Unquote."

Donatello felt a blush rise up in his cheeks and he was sorry he had poked at that particular assumption. Though his mind, methodic organ that it was, assumed that since Catherine and Raphael were leaking pheromones just as much as his other brothers and their mates had been, that they had engaged in their fair share of carnal activities as well.

Wishing he had just kept his big mouth shut, he pushed this thought away, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady his composure.

Catherine pushed his mug of coffee towards him and he grudgingly picked it up and took a sip of the steaming, bitter brew.

He felt himself relax and sigh in contentment.

"Feel better?" Catherine asked and he found himself nodding.

"Good," Catherine said as she shoved a square piece of pancake into her mouth.

She ate in silence while he continued to sip at his coffee.

Studiously ignoring their pervious topic of conversation, he wondered, "How did you know I would be up?"

"I didn't," she answered. "But logic would dictate that since I have never known you to sleep for more than five hours at a time, that you would be up soon," she said with a shrug. "So I made you coffee."

"And the pancakes?" he wondered as he inwardly acknowledged her observation as being painfully correct. He never slept very long, if he remembered to sleep at all. His mind was usually too occupied to settle into sleep, only giving in when his body flat out refused to go any longer.

"Those were for me," she answered. "You are just reaping the benefits of my hunger," she said as she took another bite of pancake and sighed in contentment.

Donatello shook his head, but grabbed the bottle of syrup and poured it over his stack of pancakes. Cutting into them, he asked, "Why are you up so early?"

He knew that Catherine was a morning person, and without the aid of copious amounts of caffeine, was chipper and wide awake. But considering the lateness of the hour she and Raphael had to have gotten back to the lair at, he was surprised that she was up.

Catherine paused with the fork midway up to her lips before she finished her action. She chewed slowly before replying, "My mind would not quieten itself."

Donatello felt alarm bells begin ringing in his head. Catherine's speech had always been a strong indicator as to her emotional state, and she had gone from smiling ease to blank, archaic formality in the blink of an eye.

Studying her face, he realized that she looked a little paler than she normally was, and tired as well. "Is everything okay?" he asked carefully, his mind automatically jumping to the conclusion that whatever was going on had to do with Raphael.

He wondered if Catherine and Raphael had fought last night over the conversations and overly flirtatious behaviours that had happened between Catherine and himself last night.

"That is yet to be determined," Catherine replied cryptically, her speech pattern still overly formal and archaic.

"Is Raph….?" his voice trailed off as he left his inquiry open-ended, not knowing if he should ask about Raphael's mental state or the state of their relationship.

Catherine smiled at his obvious concern. "Raphael is fine."

"And you guys are….okay?" he asked hesitantly, knowing it was really none of his business.

Catherine chuckled. "Yes, we are fine."

Donatello cut his pancakes and ate a few more bites, the silence stretching between them as he realized that Catherine was not going to offer any elaboration as to what was keeping her mind so occupied that she was unable to sleep.

Catherine quirked an eyebrow at him, leaning forward, her face serious. "Do you really believe that I manipulated an entirely scripted play that I and my sister had spent months writing and practicing and allowed you the chance to spar with Leonardo because I pity you?" Catherine suddenly asked.

His mind was suddenly sidetracked by her question. He shifted uncomfortably at the insinuation and he suddenly felt as if he was being overly self-centered, but answered, "Everyone feels sorry for me." His voice came out sounding more pettish than he wanted it to.

Catherine leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, studying him. "Why would anyone pity you, Donatello?" she asked in confusion.

"Because I'm the perpetual fifth wheel," he snapped in embarrassment, hating to have to admit this out loud.

Catherine lifted an inquiring eyebrow at his words. "So because you are single I should pity you?" she wondered, her voice losing its formal tone.

"No!" he objected. "I _like _being single," he lied. "So you can save your pity for someone else."

"I myself, being the object of such a grating form of sympathy, have never really had much use for the emotion," Catherine offered, her voice becoming flat and Donatello felt a pang of regret for having brought the topic up. "But I have to admit to feeling this particular sentiment towards those who are given a chance to change their circumstances, but chose to do nothing instead."

Donatello nearly flinched at the accusation and restrained himself from giving a scathing retort, mostly because her observation was not wrong.

Over the years he had watched his brothers fall into the same patterns, their actions continuously being repeated over and over again, and when given the chance to settle, a dispute for example, in an alternative fashion, it had been rejected in favour of the same old lectures, recriminations and brawls that were a near daily occurrence.

Letting out a huff of annoyance out of his nostrils, he instead asked, "So why did you choose me to fight Leo?"

Catherine stood, collecting her plate and utensils as she gave him an impish smile. "I wanted to see what would happen," she answered with a shrug as she turned and walked to the dishwasher and placed the dishes inside.

Donatello accepted her answer but had a feeling that this was not the whole truth.

Turning back towards him, she asked curiously, "Did it feel good beating Leonardo?"

Unable to resist the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips at the remembrance of Leonardo staring up at him from the ground in shock, Donatello admitted, "Yeah."

Catherine smiled in return. "Did you ever think you would beat Leonardo in a fight?"

Donatello shook his head and let out a snort. "No."

Catherine walked past him, heading out of the kitchen, but stopped and gave him a Cheshire grin and Donatello had the feeling that he had somehow just played into her hands. "Then I suppose you proved to yourself that you could do something you never thought you would be able to do."

With this pronouncement, Catherine exited the kitchen and vanished from his line of sight.

Staring after her in slightly dumbfounded disbelief, he finally let out a sigh.

He had forgotten how exhausting it was having a conversation with Catherine, but had to admit that the only reason her words had rankled was because she was right.

By defeating Leonardo he had aspired to heights he had not really wished to climb, because he had never believed he could.

But winning against Leonardo was a whole different beast in comparison to asking a woman out of a date; especially a woman who was terrified of him.

Besides, he didn't even know if he should pursue Gwendolyn. He liked her and had enjoyed their conversation and their dance together, but he didn't know much about her other than she was great at making costumes, doing makeup and she obviously enjoyed the whole larping scene.

He didn't see that they really had anything in common. Though when thinking about his brothers and their mates, he had to admit that none of them seemed to have much in common either, but somehow they were never short on conversation, entertainment, and loved each other deeply.

But…

He would truthfully rather face the Shredder again than take the chance being rejected, especially because of what he was.

And even if Gwendolyn was accepting of what he was, he had spent most of the night as Donal, not Donatello, and she seemed to be under the impression that he was in love with Catherine, which added up to him having a better chance at beating Leonardo in a fight again than in getting a date.

The sad part was that it was only himself and his own insecurities that were holding him back. He didn't even have the excuse that he didn't know who she was and could not get in touch with her. She was an associate of Sabrina's and both Catherine and Elizabeth probably had her number as well, all he had to do was ask for it.

Slumping in his seat, he stared at the cooling dark liquid in his mug and weighed his options.

Staring at what was left of his pancakes, he gave a slight smile. Catherine was manipulating him, that was obvious, but she wasn't pushing him, letting him decide for himself if he wanted to ask Gwendolyn out or not.

He knew that this would be the last veiled conversation between himself and Catherine. She would never mention it again, and for that he was grateful.

While staring into his cooling coffee, he decided that most logical thing for him to do would be to wait for a few days to see if he felt any particular urge to renew his acquaintance with Gwendolyn. If he did then he would ask for her number and take the chance of being rejected, if not, then he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

Finishing off his coffee, his mind settled upon his course of action to take with Gwendolyn, he revisited his conversation with Catherine. Her pallor and sleeplessness bothered him, but there wasn't much he could do about it if she wasn't willing to discuss it.

He made a mental note to keep an eye on her to see if her condition improved, and found him mind drifting back to Gwendolyn, wondering if she was thinking of him.

Shaking his head at the ridiculous thought, he chastised himself. She was probably still sleeping.

Eating the rest of his pancakes, he Got up from his chair, took his dishes to the sink and placed them in the dishwasher. Full of coffee and food, he walked to his lab to get lost in his work for the day.

* * *

**Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. I know not a whole lot happened in this chapter, but things are going to start really moving next chapter XD**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello all! I am so sorry this update has taken so long, but life has gotten in the way... and Christmas. LOL I really, REALLY need to start on Christmas shopping**

**Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this update and know that more will be coming XD**

**Also, I am writing a one-shot featuring Cat and Raph's first Christmas together tentatively called _Northern Lights_. Look for that one soon. **

**As always a giant thank you to Marie Allen for beta reading this chapter for me, I appreciate it sooo much! XD You rock! **

**And now, Please enjoy!**

**P.S. There is some Newfinese going on when Gwen is speaking, there is a glossary of terms down at the bottom.**

* * *

Chapter 7

**Karai** sipped at the sweet hot chocolate that had been set down before her only moments before as she studied the young woman sitting across from her with languid eyes that belied the burning curiosity and speculation the young woman's presence stirred within her.

It had been well over a year since she had encountered Catherine and though she knew only a small amount of detail regarding the events that transpired which had precipitated the woman's disappearance in the company of Leonardo's red-masked brother, she could only speculate on the entirety of the tale.

Whatever had happened, it was obvious that Catherine had acquired her fair share of scars that -being well versed in both physical combat and weaponry- Karai was able to conclude that at least two had been the work of a bladed weapon while the third was the result of a badly split lip.

Her mind quickly reviewed what she knew of the events that had unfolded and she reordered her assumptions.

It was possible that Catherine had received the scars during the period of her disappearance, but the degree of healing and stark whiteness of the scarred tissue against her already pale skin gave Karai the impression that the scars were well over a year old.

How Catherine had come to receive the scars Karai could only speculate, but this added a new dimension to Leonardo's frantic plea for assistance -which had been given unbeknownst to his other siblings and friends- in tracking both Catherine and Raphael down.

Karai had rebuffed Leonardo's entreaty because -to a small degree- it gladdened her heart to do so. However, to a much larger degree, her refusal stemmed, much to her own chagrin, by the acknowledgement that she did not believe she would be able to locate Catherine if the younger woman did not wish to be found.

This did not stop Karai from trying, if only to accomplish something that Leonardo and his brothers had been unable to do. Unfortunately, her suspicions were only confirmed when she too had been unable to track the woman any further past her flight from New York.

Speculating on the reason for the disappearance, she would have assumed some sort of romantic entanglement if it had not been for Chaplain informing her of Catherine's request for several canisters of knock-out gas.

Karai suspected that Raphael was not a willing participant in what could only be a borderline betrayal of the trust of the four brothers. But given Leonardo's blatant fear for Catherine's safety, Karai could only wonder if there was some other reason besides the fury the red-masked brother would feel at being kidnapped.

She had given no more thought to the situation, only being mildly curious as to how the young woman had managed to abscond with a two-hundred pound mutant and remain completely undetected for so long.

Continuing in her habit of keeping the Brownstone under surveillance, she had noticed Leonardo's figure also watching the residence, completely devoid of life but for the occasional visit from Catherine's sister, the Thorny Rose.

Desperation had changed into something that resembled devastation and Karai had wondered if Catherine had suffered some kind of tragic end, though she did note that the sister did not seem to suffer the same emotion.

Whatever the reason for Leonardo's disheartened state, Karai had bore witness to a passionate embrace between Leonardo and the Thorny Rose, giving confirmation that Leonardo's affections had been transfered from one sister to the other.

Finding herself more curious about the truth than she wished to admit to herself, Karai placed the paper cup back down upon the table and asked in feigned indifference, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Catherine looked relaxed and warm in a dark grey sweater with a red knit scarf wrapped around her neck and a matching toque perched upon her curly solid black locks. Her cheeks were still rosy from the icy cold that had blanketed the city in the week after Halloween and the smile that was upon her face was pleased and inviting.

Giving an innocent grin as she took a sip of her own hot chocolate Catherine answered, "Can I not just call upon an old friend for coffee?"

"You can," Karai acknowledged, "but we are not friends," she finished severely, hoping to destroy any and all thoughts the other woman may be harbouring that, just because Karai had decided not to kill her, they were now friends.

Catherine, laughed, her face full of joy and a hint of mischief and Karai found her own lips curling at the absurdity of the situation and a very grudging acknowledgement that if she was looking for a friend -which she wasn't- the woman who sat across from her was probably the only person she could ever think about possibly placing the moniker of 'friend' upon.

"True," Catherine agreed, "but I think we can safely agree that we are not enemies either."

Karai gave a small nod of confirmation, her smile turning into a dangerous smirk. "For the moment."

Catherine chuckled as she settled more comfortably into the worn leather chair she was sitting upon.

The coffee shop was busy, but there was a kind of pleasant hush that enveloped the crowd that made the atmosphere tolerable.

Tucked into the back corner and sitting upon one of the comfortable chairs that was set around the gas fireplace, Karai continued to keep an eye upon the door, a habit she had not lost even though the list of enemies she had were almost nonexistent. Catherine's back was to the door, the carelessness of assumed safety bestowed upon one who had not grown up with a target upon their back.

She did not envy this situation, more, she pitied the woman before her and her obliviousness of the danger that could befall her by leaving herself open and vulnerable to attacks.

Karai knew that Catherine had made her own fair share of enemies, and this coupled with her relationship with Leonardo and his brothers only made Karai want to shake her head in exasperation.

"I will admit," Karai offered into the short silence that stretched between them, turning her mind back to their topic of conversation, "that I find you to be a more tolerable companion than I did during our last encounter."

Catherine took a sip of her hot chocolate, her eyes still smiling, but suddenly sharpening with speculation. "During our last tête-à-tête, I believe I was driving home some very hard truths, which I have no doubt, was not the most pleasant of conversations to have."

"That is true," she confessed, "but I found that although they were hard to hear, your words _were_ helpful. This did not mean that I had to like you. But I took your measure as you took mine and I found that we had many…similarities in our personalities. Thus I find your presence less abhorrent than I ever thought I would."

Catherine's eyes locked with her own and though Karai did not look away from the intuitive gaze, she felt as though Catherine was somehow gleaning more information about her than Karai was comfortable with her having.

"Is it really too hard to admit that you actually like me?" Catherine queried with a knowing grin.

Karai let out huff of irritation and let her eyes roam around the coffee shop for a few seconds before placing her cup upon the coffee table. About to insist the younger woman get to the point as to why she had been invited to the coffee shop -because Karai wasn't naïve enough to believe that the purpose was a social call- she held her tongue as Catherine's attention was suddenly diverted and intently focused upon the area behind Karai's chair.

As unobtrusively as possible, Karai looked over her shoulder to observe the counter where a young woman with straight, non-descript light brown hair and brown eyes, bundled up against the cold in a light blue coat, white mittens and a white knit hat, was ordering a hot beverage and talking on her cell phone.

Catherine shifted in her seat, allowing herself to become more visible from the counter.

Karai carefully sipped her hot chocolate and waited, hating herself for her curiosity.

The young woman walked over to where the lids and stir sticks were located. Picking up a lid and placing it on her cup, her attention focused solely on the conversation she was having with whoever was on the other line.

What language she was speaking in, Karai wasn't sure, but she thought it might be a form of English that had been mangled beyond all recognition.

"Owshegettinonb'ys*?" The young woman asked listening to the answer. "Uh-uh. Yeah." She laughed. "'Spittin' frost* bu' not as bad as home. Yes b'y*. Stayin'-put*. Yeah. Love ya too, Mum."

The woman hung up the phone and headed towards the coffee shop's entrance.

"Gwendolyn!" Catherine called out in a friendly voice that managed to be heard over the soft din of the coffee shop and the young woman froze in her tracks.

Slowly turning her head in their direction, the woman stared at Catherine in shock. "Catherine?" she wondered her voice heavily accented and filled with hesitant surprise; as if she couldn't quite believe her eyes.

Intrigued, Karai remained silent and sunk further into the confines of her chair to observe the proceedings.

"Whadda ya'at 'ere b'y?*" the woman blurted out, her words so thick with an accent Karai didn't recognize that it made her question completely unintelligible.

The woman blushed in embarrassment, seeming to be trying to pull herself together.

Eyes twinkling with mirth and apparent understanding, Catherine answered coyly, "Having a hot chocolate," she shot a look at Karai, "with someone who is not my enemy."

Karai nearly choked on her own beverage and frowned in irritation as she sloshed the brown liquid upon her slacks.

Ignoring the glance the woman named Gwendolyn sent her way, Karai didn't fail to notice that Catherine didn't introduce her to the other woman and if she hadn't been irritated, she would have been amused at the blatant snub.

Throwing a glare towards Catherine that had made many a man tremble in fear, Catherine took the look in stride and smiled brightly.

"Uh…kay," Gwendolyn said in embarrassment as her eyes scanned the coffee shop, apparently looking for someone, and not finding what she was looking for, turned her attention back to Catherine. "'ow she cutting dere by'e?*"

"I'm good," Catherine replied to her question with a wide grin. "And you?"

The other woman did not immediately answer and instead seemed oddly fixated upon Catherine's face, or more specifically, her scars.

Blinking in sudden realization of the silence that had stretched out she blurted out, "Up in cheer!*" Her eyes seemed to focus on anywhere except Catherine's face, added, "Right busy*."

"Well, busy is good," Catherine said good-naturedly as she gave a grin which caused Gwendolyn to appear even more uncomfortable.

"Eh b'y*," Gwendolyn said and as this was accompanied by a nod, Karai had to assume that her words were an agreement. An upbeat song suddenly began to play in the woman's purse and the Gwendolyn began digging around in the monstrous blue bag that hung over her shoulder finally managing to pull out her phone and looking at the I.D. of the caller.

"Sorry," she apologized before she hesitated and asked, "Is… 'ow yer…sister cutting dere by'e?*"

"Elizabeth is really good and so is Sabrina. They enjoyed working with you immensely, as did _everyone_ else."

"That's great!" the woman said, making a great effort to modify her speech into something that was understandable. "Meeting Don- uh…everyone… It was a great experience." She said casting Karai a nervous glance. "I…uh…"

"Is there something or someone in particular you wish to inquire about?" Catherine asked curiously as Gwendolyn shot another quick glance at Karai.

"No! Uh…nope, I'm good," she said quickly. "Tell everyone 'hi' for me," she said with embarrassment as she walked backwards a few steps before turning away and answering her phone as she exited the shop.

Karai watched the young, brown-haired woman scamper off and noted that at least the nervous woman had recognized, on some instinctive level, that Catherine, for all of her friendly smiles and good natured appearance, was dangerous.

"Why do I have the feeling that you purposefully invited me to this coffee shop because you, for some reason, wanted to run into the unintelligible Nezumi. Though for what reason did you wish for me to observe the encounter?"

Catherine tipped her head to the side in thought, "Mouse?" she wondered curiously.

"I have never before witnessed such a nervous, terrified creature in my life, the moniker is apt," she observed caustically. "Though, I suppose she showed some degree of intelligence if she deemed you to be a threat."

Catherine gave a small chuckle, but did not disagree with Karai's observation of Catherine's ability to impose upon others, if she so desired, a very real danger. Instead she merely observed, "She was neither afraid nor nervous or unintelligible if you have an ear for the speech of someone born in Newfoundland. And the emotions you witnessed were embarrassment and guilt, both of which I find extremely interesting; especially the guilt. Why would she feel guilty?" Catherine paused for a moment in contemplation. "Ah, I see," she said with a small shake of her head, a half-grin of exasperation pulling at her lips. "It appears that I played my part too well and gave Gwendolyn a false impression of certain circumstances." Giving a negligent shrug and took a sip of her drink before meeting Karai's gaze again.

"I did not care either way if you witnessed our interaction. You are correct that I chose this particular location with the hope that Gwendolyn would continue the habit of purchasing her favourite drink as she has for the past week so that I may run into her. Two birds one stone."

Karai found her eyes narrowing. "I do not believe I find pleasure in you likening me to fowl," she stated coolly.

"No?" Catherine questioned innocently. "I rather think the likeness to be apt. For some reason, you remind me of a bird of prey. A hawk perhaps?"

Karai found that she could not be offended by the comparison as hawks were lithe, powerful, intelligent, silent and efficient, deadly predators.

Smiling, Karai mused, "Just remember, the hawk is as likely to eat a mouse as it is a fox," she threatened.

Catherine's smile remained in place, but the twinkle in her eyes was suddenly replaced by a dangerous sharpness. "The hawk can try, but may soon find that the fox is more trouble than it is worth."

The silence stretched between them and Karai felt herself smiling. "I knew Leonardo would not be able to tame his wild Kitsune."

After a moment, Catherine let out a small breath. "I suppose he couldn't," she offered softly, the smile falling from her face as her intuitive green gaze took on hints of blue.

Leaning forward Karai continued her attack. "You broke Leonardo's heart," she accused slowly, and noting that Catherine did not refute the charge, confronted her with another suspicion in an attempt to see if she was correct in divining the exact relationship between the young woman and Leonardo's ill-tempered brother, "and stabbed him in the back when you ran away with his brother."

Again, Catherine did not try to defend herself or deny the accusation and Karai found herself surprised, yet oddly satisfied with her deduction and Catherine's actions. "I did not think you had it in you to be so ruthless and cruel, but for this, I thank you," she said with a malevolent smile. "I had thought killing you would be my ultimate revenge upon Leonardo, and though I admit to giving up on my plans for vengeance, I can appreciate that you have broken him in ways I never could have." Karai lifted up her paper cup in a mock salute.

Catherine's gaze remained steady, but strangely unreadable.

Continuing, Karai goaded, "But Raphael?" She shook her head in disgust, "Leonardo I could at least _understand_ to a small extent, but the red-masked, hot-headed brother? I cannot say I approve of your new choice of lovers." Catherine continued in her silence, her eyes somehow falling into shadow. "But…I suppose you leaving Leonardo for the brother he was always in competition with… That was a stroke of pure malicious genius. So I shall have to give you my blessing and my congratulations upon the decision."

Catherine's eyes narrowed in an assessing manner before she said, "Thank you."

Surprised, and annoyed that Catherine had not risen to her bait and lost her composure she asked with biting, hurtful malice, "Does Leonardo despise you for betraying him and destroying his relationship with his brother?"

"No," Catherine said with a shake of her head. "We are still good friends and no relationships were destroyed."

Seeking to wound, Karai purred, "Is it because he feels guilty for taking your sister as his lover in your absence?"

Catherine chuckled and asked, "Have you had your fill of sparing yet?"

"You have yet to draw your blade," Karai countered tartly.

"Touché" Catherine acknowledged with a smirk of appreciation.

Surprised, Karai dropped her air of spurious, insinuating, sweet animosity and curiously wondered, "Why you are not furious with what I have said to you?"

"Because none of your accusations are untrue," Catherine admitted steadily.

Surprised by her admission, Karai asked, "Have you any regrets?"

"None," Catherine stated unequivocally.

"There must be more to the red-masked brother than I gave him credit for."

"There is."

"I hate that I wish for a full account of the whole sordid affair," Karai grumbled. "I also hate that I enjoy your company so much."

Catherine laughed aloud at that. "I know," she replied with an impish smile.

Karai gave a shake of her head as she capitulated. "So, are you going to tell me the real reason you invited me here or are we going to verbally fence some more?"

Catherine leaned forward, her elbows upon her knees, her face serious as she said, "I have a favour to ask of you."

* * *

**Gwendolyn** closed the door of her apartment behind her and leaned against it in painful embarrassment and relief.

Nearly every day she had gone to the coffee shop and she knew she really needed to kick the habit, but she loved her peppermint mochas and the damn things were only available during the Christmas season, and for once, she could afford it.

Talking with her mother, she had comfortably fallen into the dialect she had grown up with and had been so surprised at coming face to face with a woman she had watched vanish quite literally before her eyes in such an incongruous place as a small coffee shop located near her apartment, that she had been unable to get her nervous, shocked brain to cooperate; causing her to forget to measure her words and speak in a way that people not from Newfoundland found comprehensible.

Catherine had seemed to have no problems understanding her, which had caused an even greater delay in adjusting her speech, which for some reason, she found herself embarrassed by.

It didn't help that Catherine's mere presence somehow shook her to her very core, twisted her reality and dumped her completely upon her head.

To be fair, for some reason she hadn't imagined that she would ever see Catherine again. She wasn't sure if she had convinced herself that Catherine was really some kind of fairy queen or if the night had all been nothing but a lie, but she had stubbornly clung to the belief that everything she had been witness to had been real.

Unwillingly, Gwendolyn had found her eyes flicking over the crowd in the coffee shop, wondering if Donal happened to be there, before mentally kicking herself at such an absurd thought.

Of course he wasn't.

Not unless he was able to transform himself into a human. But…that was possible, wasn't it? Didn't fairies have something called _glamour_? Or maybe only certain fairies could use such magic…

Regardless, she had still almost asked Catherine about her boyfriend…

Twice.

She was such an _idiot_.

Replaying her memories of that night over and over again had no doubt warped and glorified her perception of what had really happened between her and Donal, and somewhere along the way she had placed him upon some kind of pedestal he would no doubt tumble from if she ever ran into him again; which she didn't believe she ever would.

These reflections and her awkward attempts at covering her near catastrophic social faux-pas caused her to nearly tumble headlong into another one when upon actually _looking_ at Catherine, had almost blurted out, 'What happened to your face?!'

Gwendolyn had believed that the scars that had been on her face at Halloween had been artfully applied to add a touch of mystery and danger to Catherine's stunning looks to create the persona of the Queen of Hearts.

But in the dim light of the coffee shop, she had realized that the scars were real and though not overly disfiguring, were very apparent.

Catherine had made no attempt to hide the scars, but Gwendolyn had no doubt that the woman would be highly self-conscious of the damage that had been done to her face.

Never again would Catherine ever be mistaken for Elizabeth or vice versa.

Trying to escape the awkward conversation and finding it hard not to stare, she had never been so relieved in her life to have a telemarketer call and give her an excuse to hightail her arse out of there.

Remembering that she had been privileged enough to both work on and meet Donal, she had almost blurted this thought out loud when she had recalled that they weren't alone. There was another woman there who was - as Catherine claimed – 'not her enemy.

' _Who speaks like that anyway?_ she wondered to herself before recalling that she had recovered by telling Catherine how great an experience it had been.

And it_ had_ been.

But…

With a sinking heart, Gwendolyn realized that Catherine must have known that she had wanted to ask about someone in particular, though if she was lucky, maybe the other woman believed she had wanted to ask about Raphael.

Regardless, she had denied all desire to inquire about anything or anyone else, especially after glancing again at the imposing, older woman Catherine was having coffee with and had practically run from the coffee shop not stopping until she was safely ensconced within her apartment.

Looking down at her phone, she pushed away all thoughts of the unsettling encounter and checked to see if she had any new emails or text messages from perspective clients and found that she didn't. This was not as disappointing as it would normally have been if not for the flood of orders she had received after Halloween.

She had been gearing herself up for the day and needed her fix before going back to the tiny studio loft she called home and continuing on with the three intricate, gothic medieval costumes she had been commissioned to sew.

Looking over at her work table with its mound of rich fabrics, she realized that she couldn't work, not right now. She felt too unfocused and jittery.

Taking a few restorative sips of her favourite beverage, she tried to calm her nerves and found herself staring at the bouquet of flowers that she had received on Halloween sitting in prominent display upon her small kitchen table.

The lilac, amethyst and mauve coloured blooms had wilted slightly and she acknowledged that they really should be thrown out; and now was as good a time as any.

She could stop day-dreaming about midnight dances with a man who was not of this world and accept that he was taken and with a woman who was - if not a queen- probably _way_ more interesting and definitely more beautiful than she was; even with her scars.

Walking to the blooms, she put down her phone and her coffee and picked up the vase. Turning, she stepped on the foot on the garbage can, opened the lid and upended the vase, causing the dying flowers to fall into the trash.

Placing the vase upon the counter, she knelt down and picked up the still unopened envelope that had fallen from where it had been nestled between the blooms and consequently knocked free when she had dumped the flowers.

Turning the envelope over, she broke the seal and took out the card, knowing that when she read the contents, the last vestiges of her little fantasy would be destroyed forever.

Written in the same hand that had scrawled her name upon the front of the card was a telephone number with an area code she wasn't familiar with and the letter D.

"Lard tunderin' Jaysus!" she swore out loud in shock, her accent thickening as she used the string of curses her mother was in a habit of using.

Sure, it wasn't all flowery and didn't express any particular sentiment, but some guys were like that. And truth be told, a guy had never given her his number accompanied by a beautiful bouquet of flowers before.

And in response to the touching gesture, she had Not. Called. Him.

Sinking to the floor, she continued to look at the card in disbelief, a rush of cold distress washing over her only to be replaced by nervous, pleased warmth.

Scrambling over to the table, she dragged her phone from the tabletop and stared at the screen, her hands shaking as her breaths came out in unsteady gasps.

Swallowing roughly, the cold of the hardwood floor seeping into her arse, she gazed at the black screen of her phone for a minute, wondering if she should call.

He probably though she wanted nothing to do with him, or that she was too chicken-shit to call.

Or…

She had just run into the woman who she believed to be Donal's_ girlfriend_ and yet here she was feeling guilty for not calling him sooner when it was possible he had a girlfriend and was a nothing but a two-timing jerk.

Biting her lip with indecision she knew that if she didn't call, she would regret it for the rest of her life. There was a chance that he wasn't with Catherine and if she didn't call, she would never know.

_Besides_, she argued with herself, she had to a least thank him for the flowers…

Dialling the number written on the small white card, she held her breath and listened to the phone as it rang.

* * *

**Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed it even though there wasn't any Gwen/Donny interaction. It is coming, oh, it is coming! XD**

**Newfinese for anyone who wants to know.**

* Owshegettinonb'ys*? how is she getting on?

*Spittin' frost-Very frosty weather

*yes b'y- confirmation of what a person just said or of a situation; expression of awe or disbelief. Also commonly used sarcastically to mean "yeah right

*Stayin'-put- Staying put, not going anywhere.

*Wadda ya'at 'ere b'y? -what are you doing here?

*'ow she cutting dere by'e –How are you?

*Up in cheer! -In good spirits

*Right busy- very busy

*Eh b'y- agreement to what someone is saying

*'ow yer…sister cutting dere by'e? –how is your sister doing?


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello all!**

**Wow it has been awhile. I haven't vanished, I promise, just been a little busy. But I have been writing and I am intent on completing all of my fics as well as working on Blindsided, I promise!**

**As always, a huge thank you to my wonderful beta Marie Allen! You are amazing as always! XD**

**Also a huge shout out to all of my lovely reviewers as well as my amazing readings for continuing to follow and read this fic, I can't thank you guys enough.**

**Please enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 8

**Donatello** rolled himself beneath the chassis of his new project. Although they were no longer short on vehicles and hadn't needed an armoured vehicle of any sort in years, finding himself both bored and restless as well as avoiding his red-masked brother like his life depended on it –and it probably did- he had decided to build a new and improved Battle Shell.

Shortly after he had run into Catherine in the lair a week ago cooking pancakes, Raphael had made good on his threat to 'have a little chat' with him which roughly translated to his brother slamming him up against a wall and lowly threatening him with bodily harm if the events that had occurred on Halloween were repeated in any way shape or form.

Donatello had tried to convince Raphael that he was just 'in character' and had no interest in Catherine –romantic or otherwise- but he was doubtful that Raphael believed him.

His brother had eventually released him and Donatello had been giving his hot-headed brother a wide berth ever since.

Truthfully, Donatello was surprised that Raphael and Catherine were still in New York and even more surprised that they were still staying in the lair. Catherine had informed them that she was dealing with the publisher of the _Alice in Wonderland_ graphic novel as well as a few business affairs -courtesy of her late uncle.

As for why they were both bunking in the lair instead of at the Brownstone, Raphael had given a shrug and thrown Donatello a dirty look before saying that it was because they were giving Leonardo and Michelangelo and their girlfriends a little privacy.

Donatello had taken Raphael's words and speaking glance sent his way to mean that Catherine wanted to stay in the lair so Donatello wouldn't feel lonely; a fact Raphael obviously wasn't pleased with and for once, Donatello shared his brother's sentiment.

Even though his brothers and their girlfriends were around the lair more than they usually were because they were visiting with Catherine and Raphael, Donatello was still annoyed and hurt by the insinuation that he was so pathetic that he had to be entertained so he didn't feel left out.

The only problem with this was that he already felt left out and acknowledging this to himself hurt more than he thought it would.

It wasn't until the next day that Catherine had cornered him in his lab and after assuring him that Raphael was busy training with Leonardo in the dojo, and getting Donatello to swear to secrecy, did she inform him of the real reason that she and Raphael were still in New York and staying in the lair.

Raphael hadn't experienced a nightmare or a flashback in a little over six months and Catherine was so proud of Raphael 's progress and normally wouldn't push him, but the lair was a trigger for Raphael's PTSD and she thought it may actually help Raphael's recovery to be exposed to the lair.

Sudden understanding had bloomed in Donatello's mind as he remembered Catherine's tired and pale face and her explanation that her mind would not let her rest.

Donatello had wanted to kick himself for not understanding the true importance and danger of having Raphael in the lair and Catherine's weighty choice to possibly hinder and destroy any and all progress made in Raphael's recovery against furthering his healing.

If Raphael continued to be free of his nightmares and flashbacks, his battle with his PTSD would be advanced, but if he began suffering one or both symptoms again, there was a strong probability that Raphael would backslide, possibly to the point where he would never be able to recover the lost ground.

It was no wonder that Catherine had looked strained and almost ill while weighing these two heavy options against each other.

Having obviously decided that the possible good outweighed the possible bad, Catherine had seemed to improve; the colour returning to her cheeks and the dark smudges vanishing from beneath her eyes.

Donatello had wanted to keep a close eye on his red-masked brother to monitor him, but he knew that this would be both suspicious and imprudent as Raphael was already in a foul enough mood with being stuck in the lair as well as still annoyed and angry with him because of his actions on Halloween.

Using his socket wrench, Donatello began tightening a large bolt, attaching the engine he had just installed to the engine supports on the chassis.

Starting on another bolt, he heard his phone begin to ring.

Jumping slightly at the intrusive sound, he turned the wrench too far and smashed his hand against the metal of the chassis. Stifling a curse at the pain that now throbbed in his hand, he nearly shouted at one of his brothers to answer his phone, until he remembered that Raphael was somewhere in the lair and he was the last brother he wanted to run into at the moment.

Rolling out from beneath the chassis, he stood and grabbed his phone up from where he had placed it on his workbench.

"What?" he snapped into the phone, assuming it was one of his brothers wanting something from him; it usually was.

He heard a strange squeak before the distinctive click of the line going dead. Pulling his phone away from his ear, he checked the number that had called him and he grimaced at the unfamiliar number.

Their phones were all on a ghost network with an area code that was not being used, but that didn't mean their phone numbers were not occasionally dialed by someone who was not paying attention to the number they were dialing.

Placing the phone back down on the workbench, he opened and closed his injured hand, shaking it out before lying back down on the board with the attached wheels and rolling himself back beneath the chassis.

He wasn't sure how long he tinkered with his busy-work project, but the next thing he knew, Catherine's smiling face was peeping at him from between metal and insulated wires giving him the tantalizing view of an extra-large coffee in a red paper cup.

Grinning, he slid out from under the chassis and sat up, gratefully taking the steaming beverage from her and having a sip of the dark roast coffee, black; just the way he liked it. He closed his eyes and savoured the pleasing bitter brew for a moment and let it slide luxuriously across his tongue.

Catherine's laughter caused him to open his eyes and glance her way in embarrassment.

"I told them to give me the oldest, sludgiest coffee they had," she said with a smile and he had to admit it was nice seeing her so obviously happy and at ease that he gave her a bright, grateful, answering smile in return.

"Thanks," he said in appreciation.

"You feel better?" she asked him and he gave a nod before pausing mid sip.

"Uh, where's Raph?" he asked nervously.

Her eyes narrowed in speculation. "Walking Beowulf with Michelangelo. Why?" she wondered suspiciously.

"No reason," he answered quickly, but Catherine was not stupid.

Letting out a huff of irritation she asked, "Did Raphael threaten you again because of what happened on Halloween?"

"Uh…" he began awkwardly, not wanting to cause a fight between Raphael and Catherine. "No, no," he said shaking his head from side to side in denial.

Catherine lifted a disbelieving eyebrow.

"How's Raph doing?' he asked hoping to distract her.

Catherine pursed her lips but let the subject drop as she answered, "Really well."

Donatello let out a sigh of relief, glad to hear that Raphael was doing so good.

"But he is cranky and irritated that we are still here and he wants to go back home," she informed him as he nodded in agreement, having already observed this.

"How long do you think you can keep lying to him regarding the reason you are still here?" he wondered in concern.

"I'm not lying to him, Donatello," she objected, her voice sounding offended. "I _am_ visiting with the publisher of the _Alice_ graphic novel. I am the Raven's 'agent' after all." She gave a shrug. "And though it is true that this is not my primary reason for still being here, I know that telling him would only make him cognisant of his condition again, and that is something I do not want."

Donatello huffed at her assessment of the situation, agreeing with her, but protested, "I know and I completely agree with you, but Raph isn't going to take it very well if he finds out you are manipulating him, even if it is for his own good."

"I know," Catherine answered, her face falling in regret and becoming serious. "I hate that I have to do this to him, and it's killing me inside, but-"

Catherine's words were abruptly cut off when his phone began to ring again.

They both turned to look at where the phone lay upon the workbench. Giving Catherine a quick glance of apology, he quickly reached out and glanced at the number and frowned.

"What is it? It isn't Raphael is it?" she asked, worry lacing her voice.

"No, it's a misdial again," he answered until he corrected himself. "But it's the same number."

"Then it can't be a wrong number, Donatello. Maybe you should answer it."

"I did the first time. There was a strange squeaking noise on the other end and then they hung up. Like I said, misdial."

Catherine smiled, a mischievous twinkle replacing the sombre look and Donatello felt a moment of unease.

Hitting the answer button, Donatello asked, "Hello?"

There was nothing but silence for a moment before he heard a woman's voice ask, "Hi. Um…s-sorry, I…uh…"

Swiveling his head, he stared at Catherine a moment, a frown on his face as he tried to place the voice which sounded oddly familiar.

"Donal?" the woman asked and recognition bloomed in his mind when she called him by the name given to him by Catherine on Halloween.

"Gwen?" he wondered in confusion.

Catherine's grin grew and she took on a cat in the cream-pot expression while his heart began to hammer uncomfortably in his chest and his hands suddenly became clammy.

"Yeah," Gwendolyn answered softly. "I…I'm sorry for not calling sooner. I just found your note-"

"My note?" he asked in confusion, but Gwendolyn was still speaking and he wasn't sure if she had even heard him.

"-and when you answered earlier I got a little freaked out because you sounded so angry so I'm sorry for hanging up on you." She paused for a moment before she continued. "Uh…the note you left in the flowers…?" her voice trailed off uncertainly.

"The flowers," he said stupidly before shooting a look at Catherine who was the very picture of innocence.

Any and all nervousness he would normally have felt evaporated as he leveled a death glare at Catherine which promised supreme retribution later.

Catherine only smiled in response, her grin widening as he asked, "Did you like them?" not wanting to admit that the flowers she thought were from him weren't, which would cause her feelings to be hurt and he didn't want to lose the chance to talk to her.

"Yeah, I did," Gwendolyn answered. "Purple is one of my favourite colours and I've never seen so many purple flowers in one bouquet before, so thank you."

"You're welcome," he murmured, feeling guilty for taking the credit for something he had not done.

"And I know that this is going to sound a little weird, but the colour reminds me of you for some reason."

Donatello felt himself blush at her words until he remembered that the flowers had not been sent by him and had instead been given to her by Catherine, obviously in his name.

"So I was wondering," Gwendolyn began shyly, "if you are free tomorrow, would you like to go out for coffee?"

Donatello was too stunned to answer right away.

_Gwendolyn was asking him out? As in on a date?_

He felt pleased warmth rush through his veins until he remembered that he wasn't human and couldn't 'go for coffee' anywhere.

His silence must have made Gwendolyn a little anxious because she added, "If you like coffee that is… It doesn't have to be coffee…"

He shook his head before he answered regretfully, "I _like_ coffee, but…" his voice trailed off, not wanting to turn her down but not seeing a way around his dilemma. He didn't feel comfortable enough going to wherever Gwendolyn lived, especially alone, and he was not bringing her to the lair or making her sit upon a frigid rooftop.

"You know what, it's totally-" Gwendolyn began after he took too long to complete what he was going to say.

"I can't just…walk into a coffee shop," he quickly interrupted what sounded like a retraction of the invitation she had extended, trying to keep the bitter note out of his voice.

"Oh. Right," Gwendolyn's voice sounded stricken. "Sorry. I'm such an idiot," she apologized. "I could meet you at your place," she quickly offered.

Donatello shook his head before he remembered that she couldn't see him. "You can't come here," he told her apologetically.

"Right, of course I can't," she said in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, but-"

"No, no. No need to explain, I get it."

"You do?"

"Yeah," she affirmed and after a moment said, "I don't normally invite guys I just met to my place, but I suppose you could come here."

Donatello bit his lip, tempted by the offer but… It wasn't that he didn't trust Gwendolyn -Catherine, Sabrina and Elizabeth seemed to- but he was cautious by nature and he was wary of new people entering his sphere.

"I don't really think…" his voice trailed off as he looked to where Catherine had wandered away to study the far wall with great intensity. "Hold on a second," he interrupted as he called Catherine's name to get her attention.

"Catherine's there?" Gwendolyn asked in surprise.

"Yes, she-"

"That's great!"

"It is?" he wondered, completely bewildered.

"Yeah, she's invited too," Gwendolyn informed him, her voice jovial and light.

"She is?" he asked just to make sure he hadn't misunderstood her.

"Absolutely," Gwendolyn affirmed. "I'd love to see both of you."

"You would?" he questioned in disbelief as he looked at Catherine who was wearing a puzzled expression.

"Totally."

"Okaaaay?" he said in confusion wondering why she wanted Catherine there as well.

_Maybe she wasn't asking me out on a date after all_, he thought to himself despondently.

"Great!" she said mistaking his question for confirmation of her offer.

Continuing to look at Catherine, he asked, "Are you free tomorrow?" his words automatically spilling from his mouth as he tried to get his bearings in the conversation and stem the tide of disappointment that was attempting to sweep him away.

"Me?" Catherine questioned in surprise.

Donatello shrugged. "You're invited for coffee too."

Catherine's puzzled expression shifted to one of thoughtful contemplation before she nodded. "Makes sense."

"It…it does?" Donatello stammered.

Catherine winked at him. "I _am_ your Queen after all."

"My Queen?" he asked hollowly, completely lost in both conversations he was having with the two women.

Catherine gave a Cheshire Cat grin and Donatello felt his stomach drop in apprehension.

"Give me your phone, Donatello."

Passing his phone over without question, Catherine took it and said, "Gwendolyn, long time no see," she chirped happily, her voice almost ironic in tone.

Donatello wasn't sure what Gwendolyn answered, but Catherine continued, giving Gwendolyn the address for the Brownstone and agreeing to meet just after lunch tomorrow.

Handing the phone back to him, Catherine gave him a brilliant smile, patted his cheek and wandered from his lab as if her mischief for the day had been done and she was exiting the area to let him deal with the fallout.

"Gwen?" he asked to make sure she was still there and hadn't hung up yet.

"Yeah, still here," she said softly. "Right. I guess I will see you both tomorrow-"

"Gwen-" he began wanting to understand what was going on in her mind, but he was too apprehensive about what her answer would be. He found it didn't matter anyway because Gwendolyn wasn't about to let him finish.

"-bye," she said continuing on as if he had not spoken before the line went dead.

Pulling the phone away from his ear, he stared at it in stunned disbelief. Tomorrow he was going to meet up with a woman who he thought had asked him out on a date, but had -in the next breath- invited Catherine along and he felt as if he had just had the rug pulled out from beneath his feet.

Feeling oddly hurt and angry, he strode towards the door to his lab, but his pace slowed when out of the corner of his eye, his attention was caught by the spot on the wall Catherine had been absorbed by.

Changing course he stood in front of the stone and mortar wall, two holes struck into the mortar where Raphael's sais had been embedded when he had pinned Catherine to the wall.

Shaking away the dark cloud that suddenly rolled over him as his mind replayed that day over and over again, he turned away and went in search of Catherine, determined to find out what game she was playing at _and_ if she was okay.

Exiting his lab, he almost walked right into Raphael, who looked slightly chilled and in a particularly bad mood.

Avoiding that confrontation completely, he turned 180 degrees and hastily beat a retreat, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to ask Catherine any questions or chastise her for her obvious attempt at interfering with his love-life - again. He was not going to have that conversation anywhere his brothers would be able to overhear it.

* * *

**Raphael** leaned against the door jamb of the lab, arms crossed tightly over his plastron as he watched Donatello slide beneath whatever new project it was that he was working on.

He knew his brother believed he had escaped undetected when Donatello had barrelled out of his lab only to skid to a halt and retreat back into his lab when he had spotted Raphael, but Raphael knew better. He had chosen not to acknowledge Donatello for fear that if he did, he might tear his younger brother limb from limb.

Halloween had been a crazy-ass night and though he had not really believed that Donatello had any particular interest in Catherine, his younger brother had pissed him off, and he had said they would have a discussion later, so he had made good on his promise a few days ago and his brother had been avoiding him ever since.

After returning to the lair with Michelangelo and Beowulf in tow, he had heard Catherine's voice coming from the lab. Following the joyful sound he had strode into the lab only to be confronted by the sight of Catherine giving Donatello a sunshine smile -one he had not been witness to in far too long- before she softly caressed Donatello's cheek.

Feeling as if he had just been punched in the gut, too stunned to react and seething in anger over his brother's treachery, he had hidden around a corner and counted to ten before repeating the process a few more times, getting his temper under control enough that he was able to walk past the lab on his way to find Catherine without charging in and committing fratricide.

Striding past his brother who practically ran back to his lab, he found Catherine in the kitchen with Michelangelo and Beowulf. Catherine was laughing at something his baby brother had said and when she glanced over at him, she gave him a warm, loving smile that always managed to cause him to catch his breath in wonder.

He would never suspect Catherine of being unfaithful, but he found that he suddenly didn't trust Donatello, and he hated that he felt that way.

Raphael was used to his hang-ups regarding Leonardo, but in a perverse, twisted sort of way, stealing Catherine away from his older brother had managed to put to rest many of his jealous insecurities, especially in regards his near-perfect sibling.

But Donatello had truthfully never even registered on his radar until Halloween night and suddenly he felt oddly threatened by his younger brother.

Raphael was not blind to the fact that the smiles that Catherine had been giving him for the past few months had never seemed to quite reach her eyes, but he had noticed that the light had returned to her glorious green orbs these past few days and it terrified him to think that the reason might be because of Donatello.

Pushing himself away from the door jamb, he left his brother in peace and went to go join his mate and his baby brother back in the kitchen before he did something stupid and lost Catherine completely.

* * *

**Gwendolyn** continued to stare at her cell phone like it had just betrayed her in the worst possible way.

If she could sink into the ground right where she stood and disappear forever, she would be completely okay with that.

She had participated in her fair share of super awkward conversations, but this one had blown every other one completely out of the water.

It hadn't helped that when Donal had first answered the phone he had sounded angry and she had thought he was angry with her and had freaked out and hung up.

It had taken her over an hour to convince herself to call back.

She knew Donal had every right to be annoyed with her for ignoring his bouquet -a thank you was the least she could do- but she had realized that unless he had her number, he probably hadn't even known it was her who had called and he probably hadn't been angry with _her_.

This was of course the theory she had gone with because the other possibility of Donal knowing that it was her because of some sort of magical call display was a little hard for even her expanded brain to accept.

Gathering her courage and knowing in her gut that this was her shot at something amazing, she had called him again and stupidly invited him for coffee, as if he was just a regular guy, but his answer had her mentally kicking herself and noting that he obviously wasn't able to use any kind of glamour –if such a thing even existed.

His appearance would not change, could never change, and suddenly reality had hit her square between the eyes.

It wasn't Halloween anymore, and no matter how many Cons there were out there to explain a guy dressed up in a turtle-esque costume, there would be never be dinner dates, movie dates, any kind of dates along with meeting friends and parents…

Everything would always have to be secret and that kind of relationship, that kind of_ life_ was something she hadn't thought about before.

Gwendolyn had taken all of two seconds to decide that maybe, just maybe, it was worth undertaking such a thing before realizing that it was going to be a hell of a lot harder than she thought it was going to be.

She had blundered her way through the conversation and idiot that she was, had offered to meet him wherever he lived.

Given the events of Halloween night, this was a dangerous suggestion that bordered on insanity.

She was so not going to willingly walk into the land of the faeries and be stuck there -possibly forever- not able to escape if things went completely south any more than he was going to venture up her three story walk-up in a not half-bad part of town where anyone could see him.

Suddenly, Reality was a bitch she really wanted to slap with extreme violence because she could practically feel the possibility of something right within her grasp and she wasn't able to stretch her hand out far enough to reach it.

Donal had then called Catherine's name and Gwendolyn's world sharpened to a pinpoint of horrified awareness.

She had convinced herself that Donal was available because of the bouquet and the number, but he apparently wasn't because why else would Catherine be with him?

Yes, she could come up with more than a few perfectly rational and logical reasons as to why they were both together: she was visiting, she was borrowing a cup of sugar, she was on official business, and her overactive imagination had a come up with a gooder: they lived together in the same castle or mound or wherever it was that faeries lived and this was only possible _if_ -and this was a big _if_\- Catherine was a faerie too and Gwendolyn really wasn't sure she wanted to go there but her brain already had and she couldn't un-think it now.

All of these tumbling emotions and thoughts had caused her to panic and invite Catherine along as if this had been her intent from the start and hope that one or both couldn't make it tomorrow.

But luck, it seemed, was avoiding her like the plague because after Donal had conferred with his 'Queen' in a conversation she was only able to hear one side of, he had passed off the phone and Catherine had informed her in a friendly, almost playful voice, that they were both free tomorrow and gave her an address and a time to meet up at.

Letting out a groan, and flopping down on her worn, floral patterned couch, Gwendolyn realized that she was so screwed and not even in the fun way.

There was no way she could wriggle out of the coffee date. Besides being downright rude as she had been the one to call and suggest the get together in the first place, she still wanted to see Donal, even if he was taken.

She had looked down the rabbit hole and had seen what lay on the other side and it was not something she was able to turn her back on, not after she had decided to pursue it.

She just had to remember that Donal could be nothing more than a friend -at best- and that was only if he allowed her to get that close to him to become such.

It was also possible that, upon him meeting again, she would find Donal to not be as good as the fantasy she had concocted in her head, and would be able to walk away knowing that the brief moments she had spent within a world that was so much more than her own, were enough and she could be happy with that.

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed! XD**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello All! I hope everyone is having a nice weekend!XD**

**I didn't leave everyone hanging for too long this time, so yay!**

**Thank you as always to my beautiful beta Mary Allen, thank you so much for reading over these chapters!**

**Also a giant thank you to all of my wonderful readers and reviewers, without you guys I wouldn't continue writing. Each review left pushes me to keep writing!**

**And without further ado...**

* * *

Chapter 9

**Donatello** looked up at the front façade of the Brownstone and glowered at his companion who was still talking on her cell phone and had been for the entire drive from the lair to their current location.

Finally hanging up the phone, Catherine gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Donatello, it was the Raven's publisher," she explained.

He scowled at her. "I can't believe you gave Gwen flowers and my phone number," he growled, finally able to vent after being unable to the previous day or this morning.

Catherine grinned at his anger. "I had to move things along because I knew you wouldn't," she told with a sly smile.

"How did you even know-"

"Donatello," she interrupted, "I know you well enough to have discerned a decided interest in her and you practically told me so yourself. Only, when the curtain fell, you turned into Leonardo, moping around and whining about how it was never going to work because you are you and Gwendolyn is Gwendolyn."

He narrowed his eyes and pulled his lips away from his teeth in annoyance. "I never-"

"I'm not saying you were whining out-loud, but I am pretty sure it was an internal monologue you had with yourself several times over. And if I am wrong, I will apologize immediately."

"I really, really hate you sometimes," he snapped before he realized what he had said. Horrified, he slammed his hand over his mouth. "I didn't mean that," he assured her and Catherine laughed.

"I hear that sentiment more often than you would expect, but do not worry, I didn't take it to heart," she said as she turned and walked up the steps to the door.

Too annoyed to be nervous, he glanced around, taking in the quiet street wondering if Gwendolyn was actually going to show up and half-suspected/half-hoped that she wouldn't.

Deciding to turn his way from such melancholy thoughts and moving their conversation onto safer ground he asked, "Why are we here so early anyway?"

"Because I know El and Sabrina and without me and my borderline OCD, I know that the Brownstone will not quite be up to receiving guests, and I want this place to be fit for a queen," she replied as her eyes twinkled with mirth.

"A quee- What queen?" he asked stupidly as Catherine began fishing a set of keys out of her coat pocket.

"Yours of course," she said mischievously. "And by yours I mean me of course."

"What?!" he yelped in confusion as she placed the key in the locked and opened the door, allowing them entrance into the surprisingly quiet house.

His attention completely diverted, he asked nervously, "Uh…El and Sabrina aren't home?" his asked, his voice pitching a little too high.

"Nope, it's just you and me," she said over her shoulder as she strode into the foyer.

Closing the door behind him, he asked, "Where are they?"

His eyes darted around as if he was about to find Raphael lurking in the corner ready to pounce on him and leave little globs of Donatello goo strewn all over the place.

"Sabrina is out photographing a wedding because some people are insane enough to want to get married when it is freezing outside, and El is with Leonardo, "training,"" she said using air quotes before she peeled herself out of her coat and hung it up in the closet.

Taking off his hat and gloves, he placed them in a bin in the closet where Catherine had placed her winter outerwear.

"'Training?'" he asked using the air quotes and copying her movements as he pulled off his coat and hung it in the closet next to Catherine's.

"You know, that thing they do when Leonardo decides he wants to teach my sister some self-defence but they keep slinging witty repartee back and forth like: 'I want to teach you how to pin someone,' to which my sister will reply, 'You weren't complaining about my technique last night,' and Leonardo will try to stay focused on his task but the conversation will devolve into discussing 'weapons' and then Leonardo will attempt to enact a more 'hands on approach' and I will let your imagination fill in the blanks. So you are welcome for dragging you out of the lair today."

Donatello gave a slow blink as he attempted to completely scrub away the vivid image Catherine had just painted in his mind. This process was slightly hampered by the realization that every time Leonardo had dragged Elizabeth into the dojo to train, they had actually been 'training'.

"Leonardo has good intentions," Catherine said with a lopsided grin, "but what is the expression? The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."

Donatello groaned, but had to admit that she was right. Leonardo had never been distracted from training. And between himself and his brothers, they had tried nearly everything they could think of to divert Leonardo from his intensive training regimens. The fact that Elizabeth was able to do this was actually quite impressive.

This thought brought him back around to his initial concern. "Does Raph know you're here?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course," Catherine answered easily.

"With me?" he added suspiciously.

"I didn't think that fact to be particularly relevant," she answered stiffly and he felt his heart sink.

"Raph is going to _kill_ me when he finds out," he moaned under his breath.

"What was that?" Catherine asked as she made her way down the hall.

"I asked 'where's Raph?'" he lied as he took off his boots and left them in the front closet.

Raphael hadn't been around when he and Catherine had left, but he was unsure where he was and if he would be dropping by unexpectedly later.

"He's with Michelangelo at April and Casey's apartment. Raphael and Casey are watching 'the game.' I am assuming it is hockey, football or basketball, but I could be wrong."

Donatello nodded in understanding. Casey and Raphael weren't picky about what kind of sport they were watching, as long as it involved running, cursing and sweating they were happy; and if it contained blood and fighting, that was just an added bonus.

Walking into the kitchen, Donatello noticed the pile of dishes still in the sink, dirty pots on the stove, a cutting board on the counter with the scraps of veggies that had been cut earlier, crumbs from someone's toast and a knife that was sitting on the edge of the counter hanging over the sink as if it was just waiting to be used again.

Catherine's eyes roved over the mess finally meeting his eyes and giving him a look that clearly said, 'I told you so,' before she pushed up the sleeves of her burgundy sweater and tossed him a dish towel.

Filling the sink with soapy water, Catherine began to wash the dishes and Donatello observed, "I'm surprised Mikey went with Raph. He isn't really into sports, unless you count professional wrestling as a _sport,_" he mused jokingly.

Catherine glanced over at him as she handed him a dish. "It is," she stated firmly, giving him the impression that Catherine was in the camp of people who considered the WWE as a valid sports league. "But," Catherine continued, "you are correct. Michelangelo went to visit April and get her opinion on what style of engagement ring to buy Sabrina."

The dish slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor shattering upon the stone tile at her pronouncement. He stared at Catherine in numb shock as she gave him a look of resigned annoyance.

Snapping out of it, he hurriedly apologized for breaking the plate and rushed to the closet to grab a dustpan and broom.

Striding back to the island where Catherine stood washing a pot, he knelt on the ground and cleaned up the mess he had made, careful to get all of the small pieces as his mind spun at Catherine's revelation.

It was true that Sabrina and Michelangelo had been dating for the longest out of all of his siblings, and he knew that it was something that was going to happen eventually, but the thought of his baby brother getting married…

He couldn't seem to wrap his mind around it.

He had a hard enough time coming to terms with the fact that Raphael was married let alone any of his other brothers.

"Unlike my loose-lipped sister, I believe you can keep a secret, can you not, Donatello?" Catherine wondered seriously.

Donatello looked up at her and nodded. "I can keep a secret. Sabrina won't hear anything from me," he confirmed as he stood and emptied the broken ceramic pieces into the garbage can.

Catherine gave a smile and a curt nod.

Keeping this information to himself was not going to be a difficult task after all. He didn't talk with Sabrina much. He liked her and thought she was a good match for his baby brother, but they didn't have a lot in common and generally did not seek out each other's company.

"You can't tell anyone," she warned. "The only one who officially knows is April," she informed him as she handed him another dish, pausing for a moment as if to make sure he had recovered from the news and if he was to be trusted with another plate.

"And you," he reminded her, picturing Michelangelo nervously telling Catherine of his plans.

Catherine stopped in her scrubbing of a particularly dirty plate and gave him a straight-faced look before returning to her task. "I don't know anything, Donatello."

Wondering at her words for a moment, he asked, "Mikey didn't tell you?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, he's keeping things to himself for now. I think he's worried that if he tells me that it will get back to El who would for sure unintentionally let it slip to Sabrina."

"Then how do you…?" he wondered, his voice trailing off as he waited in anticipatory silence when she didn't immediately answer.

Finally relenting Catherine explained, "I like to peruse eBay every now and then, just out of curiosity and I found a complete signed collection of the _Harbinger_ comics with a signed concept art poster placed there by the user cowabungadude32. The bidding was actually surprisingly fierce. The Raven never gives out autographs and the comics themselves are rare. After Halloween, sales for both the _Alice_ graphic novel as well as the _Harbinger_ series have increased as has interest in both series."

Donatello stared at her blankly. He considered himself a genius, a term supported by substantiated fact, but he was unable to understand how Michelangelo's apparent desire to sell off his collection of Raven authored comic books indicated an imminent marriage proposal.

Catherine gave him a smirk. "For what other reason would Michelangelo suddenly need a large influx of cash and decide to raise that money by giving up his prized Raven comic collection?" she queried.

"It's Mikey," he answered dryly. "A new game system, new games, new figures, action figures, comics, a new skateboard. Mikey has a ton of stuff he loves to spend what little money we have on."

"The going rate on a full collection of _Harbinger_ comic books was nine-hundred dollars," Catherine informed him as she handed him a mug.

Donatello stared at her opened mouthed. "Nine-hundred dollars?" he asked in a weak voice.

"Granted there is no guarantee that someone will actually get their asking price, I think $900 is a little high myself, but I suppose each novel was about twenty dollars and there were twenty-four in total, so I suppose the mark-up isn't _that_ ridiculous," she mused.

"How much?" he asked.

Catherine did not need clarification of his question. "The winning bid was five-thousand four-hundred and fifty dollars and fifty cents."

Donatello stared at her dumbfounded. He didn't think he had ever seen that much money in one place before, let alone in their possession.

"The Harbinger comic series was a short run with limited copies. The publisher is thinking of doing a second printing, but as it stands now, the publisher and I only have one copy of each book, so it isn't like they are easily replaced and Michelangelo knows this. It isn't as if I can just give him another collection and most concept art and storyboards end up with the publisher and were probably all destroyed," she informed his softly. "There is only one reason I can think of that Michelangelo would give up something he loved and was so proud of for money, and that would be to give Sabrina an engagement ring and wedding he thinks she deserves." She gave him small smile. "That and Michelangelo has been acting as guilty as hell around me," she intoned wryly.

Donatello couldn't argue with Catherine's logic, but he caught a note of something in her voice and looking at Catherine's soapy hands, noticed that she wore no ring, not even a wedding band.

It was true that Catherine had been the one to propose to Raphael, but for some reason he had thought that Raphael would have at least bought her a wedding band to make sure every man Catherine came across knew that she was taken.

"Listen, Raph can be a little dense. I'm sure he'll buy you-" he stopped talking when Catherine looked at him in confusion.

Enlightenment dawned in her eyes and she laughed, shaking her head in amusement. "I'm not jealous that Michelangelo is buying Sabrina a ring, I have no interest in such things. My concern is more that Michelangelo will go overboard because men seem to think that women need the biggest, fanciest ring created as if this is a manifestation of their love for their intended bride when it isn't. Sabrina isn't overly flashy or ostentatious and I hope April will be able to convey this to Michelangelo and not get caught up in the excitement of perusing rings online."

Donatello grunted his agreement before casting a glance at Catherine's face, trying to figure out what it was about her voice that had bothered him. "You're jealous that Mikey chose to confide in April instead of you," he hazarded.

Catherine let loose a bark of laughter. "Maybe a little," she admitted sheepishly. "I understand and know that all of you have a long-standing friendship with April so it makes sense, but I think I am a little more offended that Michelangelo didn't believe I could keep a secret from my sister. I am very good at keeping secrets."

This was of course the understatement of the year as Catherine had hatched a plan to kidnap Raphael without any of them being any the wiser and hid the fact that she was in love with Raphael as well.

Catherine was an incredibly open and honest person, but it was surprising at how deceptive and closed off she could be if she needed to be.

Drying another mug, they lapsed into silence as he contemplated everything that Catherine had told him, his movements slowing until Catherine took the towel from his hands as she told him to go and check the rest of the house to make sure things were tidy and to make sure no one had left any underwear in the hallway.

Blushing slightly at this, he realized that she was only teasing him, but set about his task in a somewhat abstracted frame of mind

It was not until the doorbell rang that he realized that Catherine's conversation and tasks had managed to completely distract him from any nervousness or insecurities he would have felt in waiting for Gwendolyn to show up.

Confronted with this sudden, though not completely unexpected arrival, he suddenly felt too hot and too cold all at once. His palms became clammy and he couldn't seem to think straight.

Catherine gave him a knowing smile and a comforting pat on the cheek and told him to breathe and to just be himself.

"This was a bad idea," he stated as he took a step backwards, as if he had somewhere he could run to.

"This is a _good_ idea," Catherine countered.

"But what if she's expecting Donal?" he wondered desperately. "I'm not that, that-"

"Terrifying?" Catherine inserted helpfully.

"-cool," Donatello finished.

Catherine snorted and shook her head as her eyes twinkled with mirth. "Women aren't looking for 'cool,' Donatello."

"Yes they are, because they sure aren't looking for a nerdy guy who spends his days puttering around a lab and who constantly forgets what time of the day it is as well as what day of the week it is. Added to this the fact that I am a mutant turtle that lives in a sewer and I am so not what women are looking for." He blew out a frustrated breath. "Donal was the dangerous bad-boy who didn't care what Gwen thought of him and she seemed to _like_ that."

"It was your confidence she was drawn to," she argued.

"I don't _have_ any confidence," he retorted in a shaky voice.

"Yes you do." Catherine assured him. "And besides, most women don't want a bad-boy," Catherine informed him gently.

"You do," Donatello countered, his voice containing a hint of angry heat that surprised him.

Catherine blinked at him in shock before she shook her head "Raphael isn't-"

"Raph is the epitome of the dangerous bad-boy," he argued, his thumb brushing across the scar on her cheek before he realized how intimate the gesture was.

"I'm sorry," he said as he stepped back. "I just…"

"Donatello, this is the only advice I can give you about relationships and love," she said seriously. "A person worthy of your love is the one who accepts the _truest_ version of yourself and who makes you want to be the _best_ version of yourself. If Gwendolyn can't accept you for _you_, then you are better off without her."

"Like you and Leo?" he asked before regretting the question immediately.

"Yes," she said with a sad nod. "But just remember, there is a little bit of Donal in you, otherwise you wouldn't have played him so well," she said with a wink. "You don't have to be Donal to be confident in who you are. And besides, she's probably as terrified of this meeting as you are," she added mischievously before she turned and strode towards the foyer to answer the door.

* * *

**Gwendolyn** had driven around the block a few times looking for a parking spot before finding one and walking to the address Catherine had given her.

She had then stood on the sidewalk in front of the four-story brownstone checking the address over and over again to make sure she was in the right place and discovering that she was, felt her heart sink a little.

She was under no illusions, the house that stood before her was not one of the ones that had been converted into apartments and rented out for a substantial chunk of change, this one was all once residence and she couldn't even imagine how rich the person who owned it would have to be to have purchased it.

"A fairy queen probably," she had muttered to herself as she slowly made her way up to the stoop.

Granted, it was no mansion, but in Manhattan, it might as well have been.

Half in jest she had wondered aloud if it was bigger on the inside than the outside.

Adjusting the full drink tray in her hand, her opposite hand had hovered over the knocker for a moment, tempted to use it and hope the sound would not be heard so that she could walk away with the nearly guilt-free knowledge that she had tried.

Shoulders drooping in defeat, she rang the bell and waited with apprehension for the door to be answered and almost wishing that the door would be answered by a complete stranger and she would find that she was the object of a very twisted joke, which would be a great disappointment, but something of a relief as well.

Being pranked was almost better than being the third wheel to her crush and his insanely beautiful girlfriend.

She heard the door-handle being engaged and watched as the door swung open revealing Catherine dressed in a burgundy sweater with grey leggings and thick, cream-coloured slouchy knitted socks that were pulled over the leggings almost to her knees.

"You brought coffee," Catherine observed with a warm smile as she took the tray from Gwendolyn's hands and ushered her inside.

"Yeah, I brought a few different kinds, and I…" her voice trailed off as she gaped at her surroundings in surprise.

Feeling trepidation fill her, she took in the opulence of the room that spread out before her and noted with abstraction, that this was just the foyer.

Rich colours and textures surrounded her accented with dark wood antique furniture and fixtures.

Suddenly, Gwendolyn felt not only out of her league, but underdressed as well. She knew that Catherine wasn't dressed up in anything that screamed lavish wealth, but for all she knew, everything Catherine was wearing could be designer clothing.

But Catherine managed to pull of the casual look with ease whereas Gwendolyn had stood for an hour staring at her closet trying to choose something to wear and trying on too many outfits to count before finally settling on a pair of jeans and a cream-coloured, knit turtleneck.

Feeling dowdy next to her hostess, she slid off her brown boots and felt a notch of her self-esteem replaced when Catherine complimented her on her mukluks.

Following Catherine down the hallway, past a stairwell that led up to the next levels, they passed a richly decorated sitting room and another hallway before entering the kitchen.

The kitchen was spacious and bright and though modern, still held traces of the rich style and period décor that was present throughout the rest of the main floor.

"Gwendolyn brought coffee," Catherine said and Gwendolyn felt her nerves fray at being addressed by her full name.

Looking around the empty room, Gwendolyn grumbled under her breath in annoyance, "My mum doesn't even call me Gwendolyn."

"You'll get used to it," a smooth voice informed her from over her shoulder and she jumped, letting out a yelp as she spun around in surprise.

With her heart pounding in her chest, Gwendolyn stared up at Donal. "Lord love a duck!" she found herself exclaiming as she took another step backwards and banged into a stool that was one of four matching ones that were pulled up to the large kitchen island.

Straightening the stool she apologized and explained in a voice that still contained a lilt, "Ya scared me."

Donal apologized and after taking a breath, Gwendolyn lifted her eyes to get her first real look at him in the full light of day.

An amethyst band was tied across his eyes as it had been the first night they had met, but instead of the armour he had worn, he was wearing a pair of blue-jeans matched with a white hoodie with grey lettering down the one side which might have spelled something, but with the intricate font she wasn't sure.

"You're real," she said dazedly as her eyes roved over the olive green of his textured skin before she slapped her hand over her mouth when she realized she had spoken out loud.

Catherine burst out laughing and Donal glanced over at his queen, his blank expression softening slightly as he smirked. "I'm real," he answered.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quickly, "I…I didn't mean to say that out loud. I'm just really…really nervous. Which is ridiculous because it isn't like we haven't talked before or anything and it isn't like this is a date-" Her eyes widened in horror at her words and quickly added, "Because _of course _it isn't a date," she laughed and the sound came across as forced, even to her own ears. "And I am just going to stop talking now before I embarrass myself even more than I already have." She clapped her mouth shut and found herself staring at his nostrils which fascinated her for some reason because she could see them flaring as he breathed.

Donal cleared his throat and she gasped in horror. "I'm sorry, I'm staring. I didn't mean to. I promise you, I'm not normally this much of a mess. I just…am a little in awe I guess…" her voice trailed off as she lunged for the tray of coffees she had brought as if they could somehow manage to save the disaster this get-together was turning into.

"I, um…I didn't know what to get," she said nervously as she looked down at the cups of coffee she had selected. "I have a mint latte," she lifted the cup out and placed it on the counter, "and a regular coffee, black-" Donal reached out and took the black coffee from where she had just placed it on the counter.

"If you don't mind?" he said politely and she shook her head.

"No, go ahead, I am a little addicted to mint latte's," she admitted with a shy smile and Donal grinned, thanking her and she found herself struck anew by his very presence and had to acknowledge that whatever fascination she had for him, it hadn't dissipated yet.

Realizing she was gawking –_again_\- she looked back at her coffee tray and selected the hot chocolate but pulled out the gingerbread latte as well. "I know you were drinking a hot chocolate that day I saw you having coffee with the woman who was 'not your enemy'," she joked with a smile because it had been such an odd turn of phrase she had to repeat it, "but I bought a gingerbread-" she stopped talking when a wave of sudden tension filled the room to painfully oppressive levels.

Neither occupant had moved, but she could feel the strain between the two and Gwendolyn found that she didn't want to be in the middle of whatever was about to happen.

"Catherine," Donal began, his voice filled with dangerous anger.

Catherine met Donal's gaze, but remained silent as he stood to his full height and glared down at the smaller woman who appeared completely unconcerned as Donal approached her.

Feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the undercurrents raging around her and the guilt at revealing something that Catherine had obviously wished to keep hidden from Donal, she slowly began to slide off the chair, wanting to make a break for it.

"Was she with an older woman; dark haired and scary in a sociopathic kind of way?" Donal asked as he glanced her way, his piercing chocolate brown gaze nailing her to the spot, every thought of escape purged from her mind as she quickly sat back down upon the chair.

She wasn't stupid and she didn't have a death wish.

Whatever kind of creature Donal was, he had the potential to be very dangerous. He was not much taller than she was, but he had the musculature of a Greek god and she had seen him use both those muscles as well as skill in combat to devastating effect.

"Y-yes?" she answered unsure about the sociopathic reference, but the dark hair fit.

Though, if she was being honest with herself, glancing back and forth between Donal and the petite woman standing by the counter, she found that Catherine somehow scared her even more; though she honestly had no idea why.

"You're going to make this into a big deal, aren't you?" Catherine sighed in resignation as she leaned back against the counter opposite the island and took a sip of her hot chocolate.

"A big…?" Donal seemed nearly at a loss for words. "You were with _Karai_!" he accused, his voice rising an octave.

"So?" Catherine asked with a shrug.

"So!?" Donal gasped in shocked exasperation. "The last time you two met she was going to _kill you_, put your heart in a box and give it to Leo as a _present_!" he snapped, his frustration laced with an underlying current of fear.

Gwendolyn felt her mouth drop open in shock at his revelation and she suddenly felt as if she was getting a glimpse into in a world she wasn't sure she was ready for.

She knew that anything could happen to anyone at any time. Random acts of violence and horrible things were perpetrated upon people every day, but trying to take the memory of Catherine and the woman named Karai as they sat companionably together having coffee like any pair of friends would and placing it in a darker, more dangerous context, was a difficult and terrifying task.

It was true that although she had taken little notice of the older woman when she had been talking with Catherine, she had definitely sensed a dangerous kind of vibe coming from her, but she had truthfully been so shocked at running into Catherine, that she hadn't really been paying attention to what her instincts were telling her.

But for Catherine to brazenly be chatting companionably with someone who was apparently a borderline psychopath who would kill Catherine without a second thought, was either incredibly brave, stupid, insane, or a combination of some or all of the above.

"But she _didn't_ kill me," Catherine replied calmly to Donal's words which caused him to gape mutely at his queen, seemingly at a complete loss for words.

"That is not the point," Donal finally hissed.

"I believe it is _exactly_ the point," Catherine countered as Donal dragged a hand down his face in agitation, but appeared to be trying to calm himself.

"What would Leo say if he found out? What would _Raph_ say?" he asked reasonably.

"Probably the exact same thing that you are saying now, but with more yelling," Catherine replied thoughtfully and Donal's shoulders slumped. "You've said yourself that Karai isn't our enemy anymore," she coaxed, "and besides, Karai _likes _me, even if she doesn't want to admit it."

"And that makes it okay?" Donal wondered softly.

Catherine seemed to give this question more consideration than Gwendolyn thought it warranted, but eventually Catherine answered, "I've always believed in second chances, and I think… I think Karai needs a friend."

This seemed to stun Donal who finally shook his head in defeat, their battle over, Catherine the victor and Gwendolyn the lone spectator.

"Thank you for the coffee and hot chocolate, Gwendolyn," Catherine's said, suddenly addressing her.

Jumping in her seat, she stared at the woman who she had not only just ratted out, but who had apparently stared Death in the face and decided he needed a friend.

Giving a strained smile she replied weakly, "It was no big deal."

"I'm sorry," Catherine apologized. "This isn't quite how I imagined this would turn out, so let's get this date back on track," she said with a brilliant smile.

"Date?" she and Donal yelped in unison.

"Yes, _date_," Catherine affirmed and Gwendolyn found herself looking over at Donal with confused horror.

"We, uh… You…" Gwendolyn stammered in embarrassment as she slid off the stool. "I don't know what you two think I'm into, but I'm not into the whole polyamourus scene. Not that I have a problem with people how are," she hastily assured her hosts. "But it's just not my-"

"Polyamourus?" Donal asked in bewilderment.

"Gwendolyn," Catherine interrupted with a wide smile and Gwendolyn found herself backing up a step. "I would like to introduce you to Donatello," she said indicating Donal.

"I…" she paused in confusion. "What?"

"You met him as Donal, but his real name is Donatello and he and I are not a couple."

"You aren't? Why not?" Gwendolyn found herself blurting out in shock.

"A few different reasons I imagine," Catherine mused mirthfully. "Now, let's speed this process along, shall we?"

"Let's not," Donal…Donatello replied with apprehension.

"To get this date going, I shall remove myself, because you don't really need me hanging around, but before I go I will help you dispel a little of that awkward uncertainty that tends to plague a first date." Catherine slipped past Donatello and walked towards the entrance they had entered through. "Gwendolyn is interested in you and liked the fact that you literally swept her off her feet when you danced with her. Donatello, you are interested in her and were charmed by her open and honest conversation, and you are both attracted to each other. Aaaaaand…go!" Catherine said as she gave a mischievous grin and slipped from the kitchen and vanished down the hallway.

* * *

**hehe.**

**hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello all! Hope everyone's week has been going well:)****Thank you to all of my lovely readers who reviewed the last chapter, you have no idea what it means to me to hear your thoughts on my chapters. Truly I am thankful.**

**Also a giant thank you as always to the amazing Marie Allen. I seriously couldn't do it without her.**

**And now an extra long chapter for my lovely readers, hope you all enjoy!**

**Let the date begin!**

* * *

Chapter 10

**Donatello** stared open-mouthed at the spot Catherine had occupied only moments before and tried to ignore his heated cheeks which denoted the almost painful blush that had spread across his face.

Catherine had given him a Cheshire Cat grin before slipping away to avoid any and all repercussions from her pronouncement and he glared at the empty spot as if its previous occupant could feel his pent-up malice.

Taking a steadying breath, he slowly turned back to Gwendolyn, who was looking at him with wide-eyed shock and embarrassment; an expression somehow endearing because it was so open, honest and real.

Unfortunately, embarrassment didn't appear to be the only emotion Gwendolyn was experiencing. After the information and display of his anger she had been witness to, her muscles were tense as if she was ready to bolt and he had no doubt that she desired nothing more than to flee from the presumed insanity of the Brownstone as fast as she could.

"I can drive you home," he offered softly, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice.

"I drove here," she replied quickly.

"Then I'll walk you to the door," he amended as she gave a slow nod, took a step forward and stopped.

"Did… Was that Karai woman _really_ going to go all…" she made a circular gesture with her hand. "Evil Queen from Snow White on Catherine?" she questioned in a tight voice.

Donatello paused for a moment before answering, "Yes."

"That's… Wow," Gwendolyn replied as she paled.

He allowed this to sink in for a moment before he added, "Karai is an old enemy. She's now…." He didn't know what Karai was. He supposed Catherine's statement of 'not their enemy' was as good a designation as any. "Our lives have become quieter and less dangerous, but there is always the possibility that just by knowing us, you could be placed in harm's way," he warned trying not to wince at how much he sounded like Leonardo, but he had to let Gwendolyn know that no matter how slim the possibility, it still existed.

Gwendolyn nodded and took another step before she again paused. Glancing up at him she asked in a hesitant voice, "Is it okay if I stay?"

"Why?" he blurted out in surprise.

She shrugged and answered with a nervous smile, "I don't know." Her smile fell from her face as she gripped her cup of coffee tightly. "Unless you want me to go, then I can-"

"No!" Donatello practically shouted before calming himself. "I mean…only if you want to. I don't want you to feel as if you have to stay."

"Um…okay," she said as she walked back to the stool she had been sitting upon and sat back down on it.

Donatello pulled a stool out and pulled it around to the other side of the island so they could face each other.

Settling himself upon the stool, he laid his arms on the cool granite of the countertop and cupped his hands around his coffee. Enjoying the warmth that flowed into his palms, this action had the added benefit of preventing his hands from visibly shaking in nervousness.

Gwendolyn mirrored him and seemed to be studying him, something he found somewhat disconcerting, but noted that he couldn't really blame her.

He wasn't human after all and she was getting her first real look at him without the veil of deception and fantasy cloaking him.

"Can I ask you something?" she finally inquired.

Meeting her eyes for a moment before shifting them away in embarrassment he shrugged, "Sure," and braced for a barrage of uncomfortable questions.

"You and Catherine, you _really _aren't a thing?"

Donatello's gaze snapped back to Gwendolyn and shook his head. "She's my sister-in-law," he informed her, the familial label feeling strange as it slid across his tongue.

Gwendolyn gaped at him in shock as she leaned forward slightly as if fascinated. "Your sister-in-law?" she asked completely dumbfounded.

"Yes. She's married to my brother Raph," he explained.

"Raph? Raphael?" she asked in surprise. "The arsehole who threw you up against my trailer an' called me a leprechaun?" she asked, her accent suddenly thickening as she sat bolt upright in her stool.

"Uh…yeah," he answered, surprised the vehemence in her voice.

"Why do the jerks always-" Gwendolyn stopped talking and slapped a hand over her mouth in complete and total horror. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean… He was probably just in character, like you were…" she trailed off, her voice indicating that she didn't quite believe her own words as she tried to recover from what she apparently believed to be a huge social gaffe.

Donatello knew he should probably feel more offended than he was, but he had noticed that she seemed to have a penchant for blurting out whatever first came to mind before reviewing it to check to see if it was socially appropriate and Donatello found the honesty and unfettered innocence strangely appealing.

And in this case, he couldn't really blame her for feeling the way she did. Raphael hadn't made the best impression and even Donatello could admit that he wasn't innocent in the altercation, goading his older brother by revealing his insecurities and then stomping on them.

"He wasn't in character," he stated bluntly at her attempt to give Raphael an excuse for his behaviour. "Unless you count Raph being Raph as being 'in character.'" He informed her. "Raph can be…" he tried to diplomatically find a word to describe his red-masked brother so he wouldn't completely turn Gwendolyn against him and could only come up with, "difficult." Taking a sip of his coffee he added, "He's a little rough around the edges, but he has a good heart and he means well. He just…has trouble expressing himself," he finished truthfully.

Gwendolyn looked at him as if she didn't quite believe him and he knew there really wasn't anything he could do at this moment to convince her otherwise.

Raphael still presented the harshest, surliest, most sarcastic and bitter front to friends, family and strangers alike and it was so hard to get past the giant wall he had built up and Donatello truthfully didn't know if Raphael would ever let down his walls for anyone but Catherine.

"You'll get used to him," he assured her until he realized how that sounded. "I mean…if you aren't running away terrified after this," he amended with nervous laughter.

Gwendolyn gave a weak smile, but seemed to be studying him again. He took another sip of his coffee and tried to think of something to say into the awkward silence that followed.

"You're different than you were on Halloween," she suddenly observed.

Donatello felt his heart plummet in apprehension.

"Not that it's a bad thing," she assured him, "but…" her voice trailed off as if she wasn't quite sure what more to say.

Gathering up the broken pieces of his confidence and ego, he felt Donal's tart, scathing yet somehow charming reply settle upon his tongue. Donal would laugh at her words, but… "I'm not Donal," he said giving vocalization to his inner thoughts.

Her eyes narrowed in speculation. "That's not quite true. You were more you before you became the Lord of the Wild Hunt. Then you acted a lot darker and scarier."

Donatello thought about it. "I suppose so," he answered slowly in return.

Scooting a little closer to the counter, Gwendolyn observed, "But that's the thing. I don't really know…" she paused as if collecting her thoughts. "What was real that night and what wasn't?"

Donatello frowned. "I don't really know how to answer that," he told her truthfully. "Nothing was real."

"But you're real," she insisted. "Your brothers are real and they are your brothers because you just told me that Raph was your brother. Unless the other two…" her voice drifted off as she asked under her breath, "What were their names?"

"Leo and Mikey are my brothers as well," he supplied as she glanced up at him in embarrassment.

"You said that you were the only ones of your kind."

"We are."

Gwendolyn bit her lip and drew his attention to the plump, fullness of this particular feature.

"Wow, you guys really are faeries. Or do you do you prefer fae? I don't want to offend you."

Taking a sip of his coffee to take his mind off of wondering how soft her lips were, he nearly choked on it.

Coughing a few times, Gwendolyn looking on in concern, he waved away her worry as he shook his head back and forth. "We aren't faeries," he croaked out.

Gwendolyn looked at him in suspicious disbelief. "Aliens?" she questioned in a soft undertone.

Donatello stared at her in askance.

"I'm sorry, but you _are_ green," she defended.

Donatello shook his head and rolled his eyes. "We're mutants," he told her without offence, knowing he couldn't really fault her for her leap in logic. If she believed in faeries, believing in aliens wasn't much of a stretch. Though to be honest, he was more likely to believe in aliens than faeries.

"Mutants?" she asked breathlessly. "Like the X-Men?"

Donatello felt his brow wrinkle in confusion. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"Like the comic books. You know, Wolverine, Storm, Cyclops? Humans who have the X-gene and evolve special powers."

Feeling a little lost he shook his head. "We were never human," he explained.

"Oh," she said, losing some of the excitement that had filled her voice. "Soooo…" her mind seemed to be chewing on this little bit of information and he didn't want to interrupt her. "Like a reverse Spiderman?"

"Spiderman?" he asked, not so much because he didn't know who Spiderman was, Mikey was a huge comic fan after all, but more because he didn't really know the details of the story.

"Guy bit by radioactive spider, gains spider powers…"

"Ah, I see where you are going with that," he said with understanding. "No. We were turtles who were turned into mutants by walking through a mutagen," he answered.

Gwendolyn processed this information as she took a sip if her latte. "So you are mutant turtles, but you don't read comics about mutants?" she asked curiously.

"I don't," he replied. "Mikey loves them, but for me, the science behind all of the 'mutations' in the comic books are ridiculously portrayed. There is no empirical basis for-" he stopped talking and coughed in embarrassment. "You like comic books, don't you?" he questioned before he made any more disparaging remarks against something she was so obviously interested in.

"We _did_ meet at a larping event," she reminded him in a deadpan voice.

"I was doing a favour for-" he sighed. "I didn't want to be there," he told her truthfully.

Catherine had said to be himself, so there was no point in lying about what he was interested in just to impress her.

Gwendolyn frowned. "Okay, but did you enjoy it?" she asked.

He thought about the night again. "Parts of it," he admitted, giving her a shy smile as he thought about their dance together.

Roses bloomed on her cheeks as she looked around in embarrassment. "So you live here, huh?" she wondered, obviously trying to change the subject.

"No," he answered with a shake of his head. "Elizabeth and Sabrina live here."

Gwendolyn took another glance around. "Wow. The rent on this place must be-" she paused. "Uh…pretend I didn't say that."

Donatello smiled. "It's okay," he waved away her discomfiture. "Catherine owns it, so…I don't think they pay rent." He frowned in thought. "I've actually never asked."

Gwendolyn's eyes widened slightly. "Catherine owns…" her voice was a little faint. "So you and your brothers live somewhere else?" she asked.

"When Karai is the most reasonable and least threatening of your old enemies, remaining hidden is still very important."

"So like…the Batcave?" she wondered.

Donatello shrugged. "Something like that," he said in response feeling oddly morose.

Sensing that the conversation was going to lapse into another silence, he awkwardly asked, "So, you make costumes and do make-up?"

"Well…yes," she said biting her lip before continuing. "I do costume design for parties, Cons, and larping events. But I do a lot of cosplay."

"Cosplay?" he wondered knowing the term was familiar but unable to place it.

"It's where you go to certain events dressed up as you favourite video game, movie, comic book or TV character." Gwen smiled then and chuckled to herself. "I know you and your brothers aren't in the _Alice_ graphic novel, but don't be surprised if you see a few versions of Donal, Lord of the Wild Hunt walking around during the next Con."

Eyes sparkling with excitement as if a particularly interesting thought had been lit within her brain, Gwendolyn breathed out, "You could go to a Con dressed as _yourself_. That'd be awesome! Like when Andrew Garfield who played Spiderman in the last Spiderman movie dressed up _as_ Spiderman at Comic-Con. That was amazing."

He groaned at the thought. "Just don't say anything to Mikey," he gave dramatic shudder, "he'd absolutely do that _and _drag the rest of us along if he thought he could get away with it."

"Would that really be so terrible?" Gwendolyn asked softly.

"Yes," he answered quickly thinking about how Michelangelo would soak in the compliments of how great his costume was, when in reality, only the armour was the costume.

Gwendolyn's shoulders slumped at his words and he felt like kicking himself.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's just… If we were human it would be different, but we aren't and having someone compliment you on how realistic your costume is isn't fun when the supposed costume doesn't come off." He shook his head a little frustrated, but feeling as if he had said the wrong thing.

"No, it's okay," Gwendolyn assured him waving away his concerns. "I get it. It's like if someone were to compliment somebody else on their ugly mask except they weren't wearing a mask." Her eyes widened in horror as she paled. "Not that you're ugly!" she quickly blurted out. "Not at all! Oh gods that came out wrong. Seriously, I think you're actually really cute." She shook her head and said almost to herself, "No, not cute, guys hate being called cute. Hot, I think you're hot," she stated, her face that delightful mortified shade of red again.

Gwendolyn continued to look at him with wide eyes and groaned as she placed her forehead on the counter. "I'm so embarrassed. I think I'm going to go home now," she mumbled under her breath.

Donatello found himself blushing at her words. "I think you're very pretty," he said before he frowned in thought. "Or beautiful? Do you have a preference?"

Gwendolyn lifted her head up from the counter a red spot in the middle of her forehead from where it had been placed against the cool granite. "You think I'm beautiful? Really?" she asked in shock as if no one had ever called her beautiful before.

"Yes," he said and felt his burning blush deepen.

"Thank you," she said as she tucked a stray piece of hair that she had pulled back into a ponytail behind her ear. "No one's ever called me beautiful. Cute, yes, but beautiful…" she shook her head again and she rubbed the spot on her forehead. "I have a giant red spot right here, don't I?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Of course I do," she murmured. "Guess I'll just add it to the pile of awkward and embarrassing moments of this…uh…"

"Date?" Donatello supplied.

"Yeah. Um…but it doesn't have to be a date," she began. "Unless you want it to be," she quickly offered. "I'm sorry I haven't been on a date in like…" her voice trailed off uncomfortably.

"I've never been on a date," he admitted softly.

"Why?!" she exclaimed in surprise before realization struck. "Oh. I guess that makes sense… Not that I think you can't get a date," she assured him. "I mean-"

"I'm not human," he stated bluntly.

"Yes!" she smiled gratefully before shaking her head back and forth. "No!" He looked at her in confusion as she stared back at him in flustered bewilderment. "I don't even know what I'm saying anymore."

He smiled and felt himself relax. In a strange way, Gwendolyn being so nervous made him less so.

"It's okay," he reassured her. "I'm not human," he gave a shrug. "You don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing or trying to pretend that I'm human when I'm not."

"Oh," she said before giving him a shy smile. "Okay." She took a sip of her coffee. "It's just a little bit of a huge…"

"Learning curve?" he supplied helpfully.

"Yes! Exactly!"

"Well then we can deal with it together," he said before hastily stammering, "T-that is…if you want."

"I'd like that," she said with a pleased smile, her cheeks reddening again. Avoiding his gaze, she stared intently at her hands for a moment before looking back up at him. "So, besides pretending to be the Lord of the Wild hunt, what do you like to do for fun?"

He thought about the question. "I like tinkering mostly. I like taking things apart and making them better. I have also done extensive research into DNA profiles and studying cellular structures and anatomical evolution to better understand our mutations. And I just finished writing some code for the new-" he cut himself off when he recognized the familiar glaze that had slowly slid across Gwendolyn's eyes. "Sorry, I'm boring you," he apologized.

She sat up straighter. "No!" she assured him. "I just… I think I only understood a tiny bit of what you just said," she admitted.

Donatello felt his heart sink a little at her words. It was pretty much the story of his life. No one was interested in anything he was. Sure, Raphael was always willing to get his hands dirty if it meant fixing or modifying his motorcycle but that was about it. Michelangelo and Leonardo had no interest in anything he did unless it was a new gadget or security system he put in place.

"I get that a lot," he said with a sigh.

"That's rough," Gwendolyn said with a nod. "But if it makes you feel any better, my family doesn't get me either. They think making costumes is not only geeky, but childish bordering on useless. If I was a seamstress or even a fashion designer…" she paused in thought. "Nope, even those 'normal' things they would think were dumb. I come from a family of tradesmen so my chosen profession is too artsy. They didn't like the idea of me coming to New York. Though I think I would have gotten the same reaction if I had wanted to move anywhere really. But even though they don't like it or understand it, I know they still love me and are as supportive as they can be."

Donatello smiled. "My brothers and I are so different, but…I love them and they love me, so…I guess that's all that really matters."

Gwendolyn grinned at this understanding of family and the bonds and hardships of being part of a unit that functioned because of blood, shared geography and experience, but not much else.

They continued to talk –her more than him- and after taking another sip of his coffee, he was surprised at how cold it was, and glancing at the clock, at how late it was.

Noticing his sudden shift in attention, Gwendolyn gasped in surprise. "I didn't realize how late it is," she said, echoing his inner thought as she slid from her stool. "I've got to go."

He nodded and followed her as she walked down the hallway. "This was nice," she said as she took her coat from his hands.

"Yeah, it was," he answered shyly, not knowing what he was supposed to do.

Was he supposed to kiss her? Ask her out again? Tell her he would call her?

He glanced up the stairs, thinking he would see Catherine lurking and possibly able to tell him what he was supposed to do, but she didn't appear.

"Tell Catherine thank you for me," Gwendolyn said as she followed his line of sight.

"Thank you? For…?" he asked in confusion as he turned his focus back to the woman in front of him.

"Inviting me over so we could meet again," she said as she put on her brown suede boots that had a ruff of fur around the top and two brown fur pom-poms that dangled down.

Donatello gave a half smirk before becoming serious. "Thank you for calling me."

Gwendolyn chuckled. "I don't think I would have if I hadn't run into-" she cut off her words looking uncomfortable.

It took a moment but he pieced it together. "Catherine having coffee with Karai," he finished for her.

"Yeah," she replied awkwardly. "But I'm glad I did," she affirmed with a smile that he readily returned. "I mean, what are the chances, right?"

"Very, very slim," he replied in a monotone as a glimmer of suspicion bloomed in his mind.

"Exactly!" she beamed, ignoring his flat tone and sudden changing mood. "So however this turns out, or whatever happens, it feels like…we were supposed to meet again."

Struck by her words he shook his head in dismissal. "I don't believe in fate or destiny, and I don't believe in coincidence, especially where Catherine is concerned," he stated in a sharp voice laced with annoyance that was quickly turning to anger.

Gwendolyn's eyes widened in shock; her features registering hurt.

Mentally kicking himself for unintentionally wounding her feelings, he reached out and gently touched her shoulder. "Sorry," he apologized with a tight smile, "it's just that I accept what can be quantified, is tangible, and can be proven. And even if I didn't have this particular view of the world, if I believed in fate and destiny then I have to believe that some of the truly horrible things I have been through and seen were supposed to happen and I just… I like to think that I control my own fate and have no destiny except the one I create for myself," he finished softly.

Gwendolyn seemed to think over his words before giving a small nod of understanding. "I get that," she replied, her face no longer hurt, but serious.

Trying to lighten the mood, even though his anger still burned just under the surface, he gave a smirk and added, "And besides, you don't know Catherine."

Gwendolyn looked at him quizzically.

"Catherine never does anything without a reason," he explained his mind suddenly burning with the question of: What was Catherine doing having coffee with Karai?

"That sounds…ominous, and a little scary," she offered in a small voice distracting him from his thoughts.

"You have no idea," he stated grimly.

Gwendolyn bit her lip, as if she was contemplating something and Donatello hoped he hadn't scared her off.

Searching for something to say, he was surprised when she spoke first.

"Well, however this happened," she motioned between him and herself, "I'd like to see you again," she said with bashful hesitation.

"You would?" he questioned in surprise.

"Yeah, I would," she answered with a smile. She pulled away, his hand slipping from where it had been resting on her shoulder. "You have my number right?" He nodded. "Then call me," she told him and he stood there awkwardly as she placed her hand on the door handle.

All thoughts of Catherine were wiped from his mind as he stared at Gwendolyn wondering if he should kiss her. He wasn't sure what was expected after a first date. He knew he had already kissed her once, but that had been in the heat of the moment and he hadn't really been himself.

"Well…" she paused, almost as if she was waiting for something.

Embarrassed, confused and not knowing if he was misinterpreting social cues he blurted out, "Goodbye."

"Right," she said, her voice registering slight disappointment, "bye." She opened the door and let herself out.

He closed the door behind her and leaned his head against the cool wood, banging it a few times and repeating 'stupid' under his breath as he mentally reviewed the last few moments of his conversation before focusing in on the architect of his current strife.

Looking around the foyer before poking his head into the living room, he didn't find Catherine skulking anywhere, which surprised him.

He had half expected her to have been eavesdropping on his entire date and not finding her on the main floor, went to look for her.

After searching the whole house and finding no sign of her, he opted to peek into Elizabeth's room, the only room besides Sabrina's he had not looked into.

Opening the door, he spotted Catherine curled up on Elizabeth's bed -formerly Catherine's- sound asleep.

Frowning and not bothering to knock, he walked into the room and stood beside the bed, surprised his presence hadn't woken her.

He had intended to give her a piece of his mind, still angry with how she had manipulated events so that Gwendolyn would call him. He wasn't upset that Gwendolyn had called him and he had enjoyed her company immensely, but he was annoyed that Catherine had overstepped and so obviously meddled.

About to wake her up, he found that his anger had drained away for the moment as he was struck by how young and vulnerable Catherine looked when she was sleeping. She always gave the impression of being so mature and strong that he tended to forget that she was a good five years younger than himself, and though he wasn't sure how old Gwendolyn was, he would guess that Catherine was the younger of the two.

Concerned that Catherine was still worried about Raphael, he reached out and gently touched her shoulder, shaking her awake.

Catherine's eyes opened part-way and she gave him a lopsided smile. "Did you have a good date?" she asked in a sleepy voice.

"I guess so," he answered, distracted by thoughts of his red-masked brother.

"You guess so?" Catherine repeated as she sat up, dragging a hand through her slightly mussed hair and looking at him in confusion.

"It was good," he said dismissively. "Why are you sleeping? You seemed better. Is Raph…? Is he having nightmares?" Donatello pelted her with a flurry of questions.

Catherine quirked her lips at this. "Raphael is fine," she assured him as she threw off the covers and slid from the bed.

She took a step and closed her eyes, swaying slightly.

Reacting, Donatello grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice thick with worry.

"Just got a little dizzy, I'm okay now," she said as she stepped out of his grasp.

"Catherine-" he began but she waved away his concern.

"Honestly, Donatello, I'm fine. I just got up too fast."

"But-"

"Donatello," she warned a teasing light in her eyes, "manipulating your love-life is an exhausting and -so far- thankless task," she mused. "I don't think you quite appreciate all of the effort I have expended on your behalf."

He narrowed his eyes. "I have an idea," he growled, but refused to be distracted from the fact that Catherine had nearly keeled over. "Catherine-" began again, but Catherine interrupted.

"You didn't kiss her, did you?"

Distracted and with a blush rising to his cheeks, he blurted out, "I didn't know if I was supposed to!"

"Well, judging by the time, you two must have been getting along just fine, and if she didn't make an excuse to leave or give you a handshake at the door or try to get her ass through it as fast as she could, I would have said you were good to go."

"Thank you, I will remember that for next time," he grumbled dryly.

"Oh, so there will be a next time?" Catherine mused teasingly and he found his heart beginning to race at the thought of having to call Gwendolyn and arrange a date.

"She told me to call her," he said awkwardly.

"And are you?" Catherine prodded as she strode from the room towards the staircase and made her way down the stairs.

"I… Yes," he said, feeling uncomfortably hot as he followed her.

"When?"she asked as she opened the hallway closet and grabbed out her boots and coat.

"I don't know. It's not like I've had time to think about it," he answered feeling a little pressured and harassed.

"Well, just don't take too long," Catherine warned as she waited for him to get his boots, coat, scarf and beanie on.

"Where would I even take her? What would we even do? What if we run out of things to talk about?" he asked bombarding her with his worries.

Placing her hands on his shoulders she looked up at him, her face and voice serious as she said, "Donatello, breathe."

He took her advice and after taking a few deep breaths, nodded that he was okay.

"I would suggest a movie night. Offer to bring over a few pizzas and a movie to her place. It will be relaxed and there shouldn't be too much pressure," she suggested as she opened the door and walked out of the brownstone.

Waiting for him on the stoop, she locked the door behind him. "Or you can ask your brothers. Leonardo and Michelangelo probably have more than a few ideas for date nights," she said as they made their way down the steps and to the SUV that Catherine had given them.

Opening the doors and sliding into the driver's seat while Catherine rode in the passenger seat, he gave consideration to her suggestions as they drove home.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked Catherine's idea. He wasn't great at conversation, he knew that, and watching a movie would prevent him from having to make extensive small talk.

By the time they pulled into the lair, he felt a little better about calling Gwendolyn. He had a plan and it was one he was comfortable with. After having met her again, he felt a little more reassured about going to her apartment by himself.

Now all he had to do was decide when he should call Gwendolyn to make plans.

He wasn't sure if there was a rule he had to follow and he didn't want to give Gwendolyn an unfavourable impression of himself -he had already done enough of that and didn't want to add to it.

"When should I call her?" Donatello asked before they exited the SUV.

"Whenever you want, but if I were you, I would wait until tomorrow. It will give her a chance to process everything that happened today."

He agreed with her logic, but asked, "Is there some kind of rule?"

"No," she answered. "Unofficially I have heard of the 'three-day rule' to wait for three days so the other person doesn't think you are desperate or clingy, but I disagree with it. What is the point in playing games? If you had fun, let the other person know. And if the other person isn't interested, at least you know sooner rather than later. But if you are concerned with dating etiquette, you can ask Elizabeth."

Donatello thought about going to the older sister and blanched, "No thank you," he said as he exited the vehicle and Catherine did the same.

Catherine walked around the SUV to his side and slipped her arm through his, grinning up at him as if she was proud of him and his first foray into the dating world, her eyes dancing with joyful humour. He smiled down at her and placed his hand on hers before becoming serious.

"I don't want any of our family to know about this. If they were to find out…" he trailed off as he shuddered. He didn't want to deal with the sly looks and the suggestive remarks.

"It isn't like this kind of situation hasn't happened before," Catherine replied coaxingly.

"I know," he agreed. "But this is different."

"Is it?" she wondered.

"It's just that…" he struggled to put his feelings into words.

He remembered the merciless teasing that Leonardo had undergone and the pressure they had put upon Leonardo to make things work with Catherine.

Michelangelo's relationship with Sabrina had slid completely under the radar, and even when everyone had found out about it, his family had been too consumed with Leonardo and Catherine's drama to pay much attention to their baby brother's love life.

But with being the only single brother left, everyone's focus would be upon him and the stress placed on him to make things work would be enormous.

He was shy and introverted and though he hadn't seemed to have a problem talking with Gwendolyn, he didn't want his blossoming relationship to be placed under some kind of microscope.

If things didn't work out…

He didn't relish the looks of pity he would receive and if he let his heart be touched…

Leonardo's heartbreak had been heart-wrenching for all of them to witness and they had been helpless to alleviate his suffering in any way.

Love was a dangerous emotion to give into and no matter how much joy it could bring, it could also inflict an equal amount of devastation.

Catherine must have seen his anxiety and was somehow able to divine his inner thoughts because she gave his arm a comforting squeeze. "There is no point in worrying about things that haven't happened yet," she intoned gently as she tugged him along, walking towards the exit.

"I know," he said because logically he knew trying to calculate or quantify odds based on emotional responses would be a thankless, nearly impossible task. "But what if-"

"Donatello," she interrupted as she stopped walking, "if the possibility of happiness is within your grasp, you don't ever want to regret not reaching for it because you were afraid of taking the risk or being of hurt. Anything _worth_ having is _worth_ fighting for."

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Raphael's voice growled menacingly as he peeled himself out of the shadows near the door.

Catherine stiffened and her hand, which was still upon Donatello's arm, tightened as he had automatically moved to leap as far away from Catherine as he could.

His heart pounded erratically in his chest and his blood rushed deafeningly through his ears as he felt frozen to the spot, staring into Raphael's livid golden-amber gaze.

"Raphael-" Catherine began but Raphael's eyes never left Donatello's as if he couldn't even bear to look at her.

Reviewing their recent conversation, Donatello felt himself pale at how their words could be misconstrued by Raphael's jealous mind.

"Congratulations, Donny. Didn't think you had it in you," Raphael snarled sarcastically. "Me? Yeah, I stole my brother's girl. But you? Never thought you'd have the balls. Guess I was wrong," he ground out, his eyes filled with betrayal and heartbreak before they shifted to murderous rage.

Donatello saw his death in his brother's gaze, and as cliché as it was, he watched his life flash before his eyes. Sadly, this brief replay was a little lonely and more than a trifle depressing.

Anger filled him as he realized that no matter what he said or how much he denied it, his brother would never believe he had no romantic intentions towards Catherine.

It was true that he loved Catherine, but he wasn't _in_ love with her, and this was a very important distinction, but one his older brother would never accept.

"You want to go, Raph, then fine, let's go," he challenged as he tried to take a step forward, but was stopped by Catherine tugging back on his arm.

"Seriously you two?" Catherine asked in exasperation. "Don't make me find a giant hose to spray you both down with," she threatened as she let go of his arm and walked towards Raphael forcing him to finally look at her.

"Catherine," Donatello warned, the lightning pinprick of indecision riding along his skin as she approached Raphael.

He knew that Raphael wouldn't normally hurt her, but he couldn't help but feel the need to jump between the two and protect her just in case his brother was furious beyond any kind of reason.

Catherine was Raphael's lifeline -literally. She was the one who anchored him in reality, calmed his tortured soul and kept him sane. If Raphael were to either believe he was losing her, or if he ever lost her, Donatello wasn't sure what his brother would do.

Realizing this, he felt his anger drain out of him. "Raph-" he began coaxingly, hoping to calm his enraged brother.

"We were out on a date," Catherine informed Raphael.

Donatello felt his stomach sink in horror as Raphael's face paled in shock.

"I was his wingman," Catherine informed him easily. "Wingwoman?" she questioned to herself as she reached Raphael's side, either completely oblivious to the pain her words had caused or ignoring them completely. "Though there weren't any women there for me to distract," she mused as she pulled out her phone and tapped the screen a few times before shoving it in Raphael's face.

Raphael blinked a few times, seeming to have problems focusing on whatever it was that Catherine was showing him.

Catherine caught Donatello's gaze and mouthed the word 'sorry.'

Donatello frowned in confusion.

"Leprechaun girl?" Raphael asked in bewilderment.

Donatello felt heat burn his cheeks as comprehension filled him. Catherine had obviously taken a picture of him and Gwendolyn on their date.

"They must have been having a good time because they talked for a solid three hours after I left."

"You were on a date with Leprechaun girl?" Raphael asked him in surprise.

"Yes," he growled as he straightened his spine. "And stop calling her Leprechaun girl, her name is Gwen," he said in defence of the woman he had just been on a date with.

"Uh…" Raphael seemed to be having problems processing what was going on. "Okay," he agreed slowly before suddenly beaming at him. "That's great, Donny!" he effused as he strode up to him and gave him a forceful clap on his carapace. "Why the hell didn't you just say so?"

"Because _your mate_ has been playing matchmaker behind my back, you wouldn't have believed me if I had and I didn't want anyone to know in case things don't work out," he snapped in reply.

Raphael glanced over at Catherine whose face was a mix of pleased innocence and fierce, tempered steel.

His brother's hand slid from Donatello's carapace. "I won't breathe a word, promise," he said as he continued to watch Catherine who tucked her phone in her jacket pocket, turned and strode from the garage.

Raphael winced. "Sorry, Donny," he apologized and Donatello felt himself pity Raphael in the face of what was sure to be Catherine's considerable anger.

"It's okay," he said forgivingly.

"It's just…Catherine's been… You know what, it's nothing. Congrats, Donny. I really mean that and I ain't sayin' that just 'cause I'm a jealous idiot."

Donatello felt himself relax. "Thanks," he told his brother who gave him a nod, clapped him on the carapace one final time and strode from the garage, no doubt to beg Catherine's forgiveness for accusing her of cheating on him.

Staring at his brother's retreating carapace, he pulled out his phone, searched for Gwendolyn's number and dialed it.

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**I hope everyone enjoyed! Go Donny!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello everyone! I know, it has been sooo long! And for that I apologize. *Shakes fist at life * it keeps getting in the way! **

**Anyway, I am back now and I would like to thank all of my lovely reviewers from the bottom of my heart for all of your amazing reviews! I really try to answer each review that I get, but sometimes I can't get to them and I apologize for that, but I do want to let you all know that your words seriously keep me and this fic going.**

**Also my lovely readers, I would not write this if not for your readership, so thank you so much!**

**This fic would also be so much less awesome if it wasn't for my amazing Beta Marie Allen, who I can't thank enough for reading over my chapters! You are amazing!**

**And now, please enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 11

**Donatello** knocked on the door of Gwendolyn's apartment, his shoulders hunched forward in annoyance as he tried to ignore the two figures at his back and fervently hoped Gwendolyn wouldn't slam the door in his face.

A moment later he heard a chain being removed and a bolt turning before the door opened revealing Gwendolyn looking bright and cheerful in a pale yellow shirt and blue-jeans that hugged pleasing curves, her straight russet hair pulled up into a ponytail as soft tendrils attempting to escape caressed her soft pink-tinged cheeks.

Gwendolyn's face lit up at the sight of him, which sent a spark of pleased warmth shooting through him before her eyes slid to the two silent date-crashers standing behind him causing her whole demeanor to slump slightly.

He gave her a tight smile. "Sorry," he apologized. "I hope you don't mind. I brought along a couple of friends."

"Uh, no, no. Come in," Gwendolyn said politely as she moved out of the doorway and allowed them entry.

It had been a week since their coffee date and as apprehensive as he was about the second date, he had been looking forward to seeing her again.

"Hey, nice place," Casey said with a whistle over his shoulder and Donatello resisted the urge to smack him and instead ground his teeth together in irritation.

Raphael had kept his promise and hadn't breathed a single word to Michelangelo or Leonardo or either of their mates about Gwendolyn, but apparently Casey and April had been fair game.

April had been so excited for him and had wanted to meet Gwendolyn so badly, that she had proposed a double date at the very last minute, four pizzas and two movies already in hand as she and Casey literally ambushed him right before he was about to leave.

He had refused, not wanting to have his second date hampered by his two friends, but Catherine, who had watched the ambush unfold with interest, had pointed out that if Casey and April went along, it would allow Gwendolyn to meet his friends and there wouldn't be any undue pressure placed upon him to make small talk or have sex.

Her. Exact. Words.

Embarrassment had flowed quickly through him and he wasn't really sure what he had said after that but he had apparently agreed to April and Casey tagging along because they had climbed into the SUV after him and he had wanted to get out of the lair as quickly as possible; Raphael's smug, grinning face vanishing in his rear-view mirror as he had peeled from the garage.

Stupidly, he hadn't even thought about phoning Gwendolyn to make sure it was okay with her to bring friends along, but now it was too late and she was obviously too polite to turn them away.

"This is April and her boyfriend Casey," he said as he introduced his two long-time friends. "And this is Gwen."

"It's nice to meet you," Gwendolyn said as she shook hands with both April and Casey, an unsure smile tugging at her lips as she motioned towards a coatrack to deposit their outerwear.

"Sorry, I know this is a little last minute," April began apologetically, "But I really wanted to meet Donatello's girfriend."

Donatello face-palmed his forehead and repressed a groan.

"G-girlfriend?" Gwendolyn squeaked as she shot a glance towards him.

He peeked at Gwendolyn from between his fingers and he thought he could detect a flare of uncertainty in her eyes.

"Right….date, Donny's date. Sorry," April apologized. "I guess it's a little early for titles…" she trailed off awkwardly.

"But we brought pizza and movies!" Casey interjected, a little less oblivious to the undercurrents than he normally was.

"That's…great," Gwendolyn said with a forced smile as she helped take the pizzas to the kitchen counter with April, allowing Donatello his first real look at the loft.

It was a large, wide open space with high ceilings, exposed brick and hardwood floors. There was a bedroom and bathroom in one corner, a small u-shaped kitchen in the other, with attached living room set up with a grey microfiber chair and a loud floral patterned couch that looked to have been plucked straight out of the 80's. On the other side of the apartment was a workstation piled high with fabrics, a sewing machine, make-up kit, mannequins, busts and a plethora of art and painting supplies.

Following the two women into the kitchen area, he noticed there was no kitchen table and instead three stools were pulled up on one side of the u-shaped counter which was obviously being used as an eating bar.

"Sorry," Gwendolyn apologized, "I don't have much seating room," she said with embarrassment.

"No worries," Casey assured her with a smile, "as long as you don't mind us eating in the living room," he motioned with his hand.

"No, that's…usually where I eat anyway," she admitted bashfully.

April smiled, gathering up the pizza boxes. "Us too," she said as she walked with Gwendolyn and sat down beside the younger woman on the couch while Casey took the chair, leaving the empty seat on the couch next to Gwendolyn.

He sat down and tried not to crowd her, not knowing how comfortable she would feel with his leg brushing against hers.

"We have a kitchen table, but it's being used as a desk," April confessed.

"Your junk, not mine," Casey interjected helpfully as he popped open a pizza box.

"It's not my fault our apartment is so small," April retorted before turning back to Gwendolyn. "Do you know how crowded it is when you get four mutant turtles plus us all in the same living room? Very. I had to get rid of the desk years ago."

"Haven't had a movie night with everyone in a long time though," Casey pointed out thoughtfully as he bit into a piece of pizza.

Donatello glanced over at Casey as he reached out to grab a piece of cheese pizza his fingers suddenly brushing up against warm, soft skin that sent a frisson of awareness blazing up his arm.

His gaze locked with Gwendolyn's and he jerked his hand away as if it had been burned; a blush stealing over his features as he motioned for her to go ahead and he waited until she had chosen her piece before he chose his own.

"Hey!" Casey exclaimed and Donatello nearly jumped out of his shell thinking he had done something wrong. "Raph and Cat are here, we should ask Cat if we can do a movie night at the Brownstone."

Donatello relaxed and turned his attention to his friend.

"Why the Brownstone?" April asked.

"Because of the sweet theatre room!" Casey exclaimed. "The only time I've ever seen it was when I was helping move Sabrina in."

"Shouldn't you ask El or Sabrina? They live there," Donatello pointed out. "Catherine and Raph have been staying at the lair."

"So?" Casey said waving his hand and shaking his head as he finished off his piece of pizza and went for another before pausing. "I should call her right now," he stated as he pulled out his cell phone.

"Casey," April hissed as she threw an apologetic look towards Gwendolyn and Donatello.

"Won't be more than a minute," Casey said as he waited for his impromptu call to be answered. "Hey, Bro!" Casey exclaimed, apparently calling Raphael's cell phone. "Yeah, we're here," he paused as he listened to Raphael. "Nice place," he answered. "Seems nice and she's cute," Casey replied to Raphael's apparent question on if they were at Gwendolyn's, what her apartment was like, and what Casey thought of Gwendolyn.

Donatello resisted the urge to look at Gwendolyn to see what her reaction was to his friend's words but Casey's attention suddenly shifted to Gwendolyn and himself and he mentally prepared himself for something that was probably going to be much worse than what Casey had already said.

"No, I didn't call to ask you to call me back so we have an excuse to get outta here," Casey said with a frown as he paused, his attention shifting to the pizza box. "Bro, we just got here, but no, Donny doesn't look like he needs escape either," he said, apparently blissfully unaware that they could all hear him and Donatello resisted the urge to sink into the couch and through the floor in embarrassment. "But I'll let him know," Casey continued, oblivious to April's desperate hand gestures to get her boyfriend to stop talking.

"Anyway," Casey said finally catching April's disapproving gaze, "I was wonderin'," he paused a moment, a devilish smile stretching across his face, "is your Queen there?" Donatello's eyes widened at Casey's words. "Hey, I have YouTube," Casey explained, "saw the whole thing." Casey's gaze slid to Donatello's. "Kuddos, Don. Never did congratulate you for kicking Leo's ass."

Donatello didn't even bother to acknowledge Casey's pizza salute as his friend turned his attention back to his conversation.

"But seriously, Raph, tell me she kept the dress," he paused as he listened for the answer. "You lucky son of a-" Casey gave a cough as he caught the look of death in April's eyes. "Uh… So can I talk to Cat for a sec or is she still freezing you out?" He waited a moment, listening to Raphael's reply. "Dude, you totally deserved it after what you did. And considering, I'd say you got off _easy_," Casey said with a shake of his head obviously referencing the events that had occurred after Raphael had accused Catherine and Donatello of having an affair.

Catherine had been livid, and Donatello couldn't really blame her. She had packed an overnight bag and stayed the night at the Brownstone. She had returned the next day and whatever conversation the two had shared had been done behind closed doors, and though Raphael had given Donatello the most sincere and contrite apology he had ever been on the receiving end of, he couldn't help but wonder if Catherine had really been _that_ angry.

It was possible that she had been, but Donatello couldn't help but suspect that even if she was angry enough to spend the night at the Brownstone, that she had used it as an opportunity to see how Raphael would do in the lair for the night in the company of his brothers and Beowulf, but without her.

Raphael had seemed okay in the morning and though it was possible his brother had only snatched a few moments of sleep, Donatello was pretty sure the Shredder was the farthest thing away from his brother's tortured thoughts.

"Hey, Cat-therine," Casey corrected as if he didn't quite feel comfortable calling Catherine by the nickname that Elizabeth, Sabrina and Michelangelo used. "Listen." He stopped talking. "Well…yeah. I mean…Donny and Gwen don't mind me callin'. Yeah I'm sure…sorta. But I'm callin' _'cause_ of them," he explained coaxingly. "See, I was thinkin' that we should get everyone together at the Brownstone for an epic movie night. Promises were made when I helped Sabrina move in after you and Raph disappeared and I wanna collect." Casey waited for Catherine to answer. "We busy next Friday around seven, Apes?" Casey suddenly asked.

April breathed out a resigned sigh. "No, we're free."

"How 'bout you?" Casey addressed Gwendolyn.

"Uh…" she shot a quick glance at Donatello. "I don't… This is….um…"

"Come on, G," Casey prodded. "We're talking a theatre room with three tiers of those comfy reclining seats and a popcorn machine, how can you say no?" he asked. "I'm not pressuring her," Casey said into the phone. "And I'm not being a busy–nose. Whatever the hell that is."

Gwendolyn laughed. "It means someone who's in everyone's business," she said with a smile, relaxing a little bit. Glancing back at Donatello for a moment before looking back at Casey, she answered, "I'm free on Friday."

"Great!" Casey exclaimed with a wide smile. "Gwen's in," he told Catherine. "What?" Casey wondered. "Uh… Yes ma'am," Casey said contritely, straightening his pose as if somehow Catherine could see him.

Saying goodbye, Casey finally hung up the phone and looked bashfully at the assembled company. "Sorry," he apologized.

April shook her head and rolled her eyes, an embarrassed smile upon her face. "So, Gwen, did Donatello tell you I've known him since he was fifteen," April enquired with a devilish smile upon her face.

Donatello groaned as April began regaling Gwendolyn with a list of 'Donatello's most embarrassing life moments', Casey adding in his two cents every now and then.

Donatello attempted to defend himself and his actions during the retelling of various tales, but he could tell he was fast losing a futile battle before completely giving up.

His only source of consolation was that Gwendolyn was doing a lot of smiling and laughing and he supposed he could be okay with it being, for the moment, at his expense.

Of course, Donatello was able to give it as good as he could take it and he was able to pull a few embarrassing stories about both Casey and April from the annals of their long friendship together.

"So…romantic comedy or action movie?" April asked during a break in the conversation, holding up the two movies she had brought.

Casey had voted for the action movie, while April and Gwendolyn had wanted the romantic comedy. Donatello was the deciding vote and he deferred to the women. He hadn't heard of either movie and he didn't expect one to be better than the other and so he had opted to let Gwendolyn have her pick. He had foisted his friends upon her and it was the least he could do to remedy the situation.

As they watched the movie, he felt strangely thankful that Casey and April had come along. If they hadn't, he would have spent the entire night wondering how he should act. He didn't want to be too forward but at the same time, he didn't want her to think that he wasn't interested.

It would have been a horrible kind of torture trying to decide if he should casually put his arm across the back of the couch like he had seen done so many times on TV and in the movies when humans were out on dates, and stressed out about whether Gwendolyn was enjoying herself or if she was bored. But with Casey and April breaking the ice and the tension, he found himself relaxing and if his leg brushed up against Gwendolyn's and he didn't move it away and she didn't move hers away either, he found that with the three of them on the couch, it was less awkward and he could pretend that it was 'accidental'.

Watching the credits roll past, he glanced over at Gwendolyn and caught a view of her out of the corner of his eye.

She appeared a little lost and enraptured all at the same time and he found himself struck by the sweetness of the look.

The movie, the title of which escaped him, wasn't horrible, but he had to admit that he didn't really understand it. He supposed it was the same formulaic notion of guy meets girl, guy loses girl, guy tries to win her back with hilarity and ridiculous situations ensuing.

It was all nonsensical of course.

He knew the length people would go to for love - he had witnessed it himself - but he also knew that things were more complicated than what was portrayed on the screen.

He loved his brothers, he loved Casey and April, Sabrina and Elizabeth and Catherine, but romantic love was something he had never before experienced and there were some parts of it that were a complete mystery to him.

His brothers had found their mates, but it hadn't been an easy process and he truthfully didn't know how he was supposed to know when he had met _the one_ or how fast this knowledge would apparently hit him.

"What are you thinking about?" Gwendolyn wondered as he folded up a pizza box to stick in the trash while April and Casey cleaned the living room of soda cans and glasses.

"Love," he answered before he was able to stop the words that were flowing through his brain and apparently straight to his lips.

Gwendolyn froze as she was about to place the remaining pizza slices into one box.

"Not with you of course," he hastened to explain before he saw the bloom of confused hurt in her eyes. "I didn't mean… It's just… We aren't…" he stopped talking, took a breath and continued. "Love is complicated, and that movie, it made it seem like it was easy."

Gwendolyn gave him a searching look before she shook her head. "That movie didn't make it seem easy," she pointed out reasonably.

"That's not… She was with that one guy who was nice and sweet and it wasn't like he was a bad guy or had done anything wrong, but she chose the guy who hadn't always treated her very well and I don't really understand why," he told her truthfully.

Donatello had watched a similar though not quite exact situation play out in front of him with Leonardo, Raphael and Catherine. He knew things had not worked out between Leonardo and Catherine and it had all turned out for the best, but there was a part of him that wondered if Catherine and Leonardo would have worked out if Leonardo hadn't pushed her away or if Catherine and Raphael would have ended up together no matter what.

He supposed that if he believed the latter that he would have to believe Gwendolyn's ideas about fate and destiny; which would then run counter to his very strong belief in free will.

A concept he supposed he hadn't had much of in regards to everything that had so far happened between Gwendolyn and himself; thanks to his meddling sister-in-law and friends.

Gwendolyn bit her lip before she finally answered his question, "I suppose that sometimes…" she seemed to search for her words, "I can't think of anything to say that's not lame or cliché," she admitted with a shake of her head. "The guy in the movie that got dumped _didn't_ do anything wrong. There was nothing he could have done to stop her from leaving because she realized that she loved the other guy more," she offered softly her face showing signs of concern mixed with something bordering on either sadness or pity.

Her expression was confused him and he wondered about her past relationships. He couldn't imagine that anyone so fun, bright and beautiful could have remained single all of this time.

"It was nice meeting you," April interrupted as she placed the cans and glasses upon the counter. "Again, sorry for dropping by unannounced, but it was nice meeting you in a nice, normal way," April said somewhat cryptically, but most likely referring to how she had met Catherine.

"Yeah, ditto," Casey said as he pulled April away. "We'll meet you in the truck, Don," he said as he waited for April to retrieve her coat and hat before he ushered her out of the door, closing it gently behind him before opening it again. Sticking his head back in through the door, Casey said, "Unless…you know…things happen, then call us and we'll come pick you up later…or tomorrow. Whichever." Casey closed the door again and that feeling of wanting to sink through the floor returned full force.

Letting out a resigned and embarrassed sigh, he realized he really didn't know what to say. "I should just…go," he said awkwardly as he walked over to put on his boots, coat and hat.

"Your friends are… interesting," Gwendolyn observed.

"Funny," he retorted, "I would describe them as pushy, embarrassing and nosy," he answered back.

"They're really nice though," Gwendolyn offered.

"Yes, they are," he admitted, knowing that nice was the very least of their qualities.

"But…" Gwendolyn began as Donatello pulled his coat from the coat rack by the door, her tone causing him to pause. "About next Friday…"

He looked at her, his coat clutched in his hands. "You don't have to come," he quickly interjected. "Don't feel like you have to. Casey put you on the spot. It's exactly the reason I didn't want anyone knowing-" he cut off his own words as her brown eyes widened in shock.

"Anyone knowing…? You mean about me?" Gwendolyn wondered, her voice quavering slightly.

"Yes," he admitted. "I just wanted a little bit of time without my family putting pressure on me, on you…" he trailed off not knowing how to explain how…intense his family could be. "But when we got back after our date Raph found me with Catherine-"

Gwendolyn bit her lip. "I understand," she interrupted with a slight nod of her head. "If you don't want me to go, I can-"

"No!" he assured her. "I_ want_ you to come, but I don't want you to feel like you_ have to_ if you aren't comfortable, or if you feel like things are moving too fast, or if you just don't want to see me again," he explained.

"Do you feel like things are moving too fast?" she asked seriously.

"No. Yes. I don't know!" he admitted feeling uncomfortably hot and flustered.

"Okay…" she said slowly. "Is Catherine going to be there?" she wondered softly.

He frowned. "I would think so. Actually, I'm guessing that my entire family and their girlfriends will be there."

"Mikey and Leo have girlfriends?" she asked in shock.

"Sabrina and Elizabeth, respectively," he answered, not sure if he was supposed to feel offended by her surprised tone or not.

"So wait," Gwendolyn said with a confused intensity to her voice. "Catherine is married to Raph who is Elizabeth's twin sister who is dating Leo who is her brother in-law who is friends with Sabrina who is dating Mikey?" she asked.

"Uh…yeah," he replied.

"Wow. That's like…totally incestuous," she mumbled under her breath before her eyes went wide in horror and she looked at him, his mouth hanging open in shock. "I said that out loud, didn't I?" she asked in a strained whisper as he gave a slow nod. "Sorry," she apologized. "That sounded really bad, I know, but I didn't mean it how it sounded. It's like…teenagers in high school." He gave her a blank look. "Right… You probably never went to high school."

He shook his head. "When I was a teenager I was busy fighting gangs and the Foot Clan and trying to stay alive," he pointed out.

"Uh… That's… You pretty much just described high school," she said in an undertone before she continued with her point. "Let's just say you were lucky, not having to deal with all of the cliques and popular girls, they are horrible," she seethed before waving her thoughts away. "When I said incestuous I just meant that it's like when everyone is in the same group and everyone dates everyone else in the group and if you break up, you still date someone that's in your little group."

"Catherine's the only one who dated-" he began but cut himself off because he realized he would be on the losing end of that argument. Catherine had dated two out of four brothers, her sister was dating one of the former boyfriends and Elizabeth and Sabrina were friends and she was dating another brother. "You're right," he said as he pulled on his coat.

"I'm not judging-" she began as if she was sorry for what she had said.

"It's okay," he assured her. "I- Sorry," he apologized as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the text that had caused his phone to vibrate.

**U comin?** Casey had texted.

**Yeah. **He replied.

Looking back at Gwendolyn, he told her, "Casey and April are waiting."

He pulled on his beanie and put up his hood.

"Oh, right," she said with nervous apprehension. "I just… One more question," she said as she took a step closer, her eyes searching his.

He gave a quick nod of assent.

"Casey said that Cat…Catherine" she corrected, "and Raph disappeared…as in…they ran away together?" she asked and Donatello looked away from her probing gaze.

"It's complicated, but essentially, yes, they did," he replied. "But, it's not something I really want to talk about," he told her truthfully.

Talking about the reasons for their disappearance, besides being a painful reminder of how he had nearly lost Raphael to the demons that had tormented him and Donatello's own failure to help his brother, it really wasn't his story to tell.

"I'm not going lie," Gwendolyn interrupted his dark thoughts, "all of this is a little…something. I'm not quite sure what, but…" she stepped closer, reached out and grabbed him by the front of his coat, pulling him down. "It's not a bad thing," she finished as she kissed him.

He froze for a moment before he closed his eyes, enjoying the brief petal soft sensation of her lips against his own.

Pulling away she gave him a shy smile, her cheeks bright pink. "I'll see you Friday at seven," she said as she stepped back, letting go of his coat.

Recovering, he gave a slow smile. "I'll see you then," he said as he wrapped a scarf around his face, opened the door and managed to make his way into the hall without stumbling over his own two feet.

* * *

**Gwendolyn** closed the door and locked it behind Donatello, the heated blush still staining her cheeks red.

He had tasted of coffee and potato chips and her mouth was still warm from where his lips had been pressed against her own.

After their first date she had been disappointed that he hadn't kissed her. Normally after a first date she would only kiss a guy if she really felt a connection, and because she was shy, she usually didn't initiate the physical intimacy. But the truth was that she felt something with Donatello, a spark of something that she wanted to pursue, and she had a feeling that something was holding him back.

She had chalked it up to inexperience as Donatello had admitted he had never gone on a date before, but when he had mentioned Catherine and Raphael she had begun to wonder if there was a reason besides just being an arse that Raphael was so jealous of Donatello and Catherine associating together.

Gwendolyn could believe it was a case of unrequited love which would possibly explain Raphael's paranoid amount of jealousy towards Donatello, but on Halloween, Gwendolyn had the distinct impression that Donatello and Catherine were a couple by the way they acted towards each other, and the way he kept watching her.

When she had asked why they weren't together, Catherine had answered that there were 'a number of reasons' instead of a flat-out denial, which was strange, but after Donatello asked her about the romantic comedy and why the woman had gone back to the guy who, after losing her, had an epiphany about how much he loved her when she was with another man, a sudden suspicion had suddenly bloomed in her mind only to be confirmed when Donatello let it slip that Catherine had dated two of the brothers as well as not wanting to talk about Raphael and Catherine running away together.

Donatello may have never been on a date before, but this didn't mean he hadn't ever had a girlfriend and it was obvious now that it had been Catherine.

It wasn't hard to imagine Catherine breaking up with the brutish, crass Raphael and moving on to Donatello, who was sweet and kind and intelligent, only to go back to Raphael.

After all, it wouldn't be the first time that a couple got back together and it fit the sad pattern of the girl leaving the 'nice guy' to get back together with her jerk-wad ex.

This would also explain Raphael's acrimonious and jealous attitude as well as the odd kind of tension and closeness that was exhibited between Donatello and Catherine.

It was obvious that Donatello was still heartbroken, and for a split second, after she had been invited to movie night, she had thought that Donatello hadn't wanted her there. But it appeared Donatello was genuinely trying to move on and she admired that and she was determined to let him know that Catherine had made a mistake in choosing Raphael over Donatello.

By nature, she was not a flirty, confident, forward kind of girl, but she had to give Donatello some kind of…confidence back in himself and let him know that she was interested. She didn't want to be the rebound girl, but he genuinely seemed interested in her, though a little gun-shy.

Having had her heart broken a few times, she couldn't blame him for wanting to take things slow.

She could also understand not feeling comfortable suddenly showing up with her to family functions which only invited speculation and as Donatello pointed out, meddling.

But truthfully, it felt…nice in a way.

There was nothing worse than meeting a guy who placed you in your own little bubble where family and even friends did not slip into your sphere. She distrusted any guy who didn't want to introduce her to his family and friends. It felt all kinds of wrong and a little hinky and made her wonder if the guy just had a few hang-ups or if she was just a girl on the side.

To be included, almost from the get-go and treated like a friend and being invited into the group, as apparently exclusive as it was, warmed her heart.

She could admit that she had been surprised that Donatello's friends Casey and April had shown up, as she had been looking forward to spending more time alone with Donatello, but she wasn't sorry that it had happened.

It had given her a chance to know more about Donatello as well as figure out Donatello's family dynamic a little better.

Mikey was apparently the light-hearted prankster with a love of comic books, while Raphael was the surly one who loved fighting and had a quick temper and who was Casey's best bud. Leo was the oldest, and was strict and serious in nature and the 'leader' of the brothers who were not only mutant turtles, but mutant _ninja_ turtles.

This explained why Leo and Donatello had fought so well on Halloween and why Donatello had brushed off being cut with a _sword_ like it was nothing.

She wanted to know more about Donatello and Catherine's relationship, how long they had been together and how long ago they had broken up, but she didn't want to poke at that particular wound.

But what she really didn't understand and what she also hadn't been able to ask about, was what Catherine's deal was?

Leo was 'leader' but somehow Catherine was their Queen. What this meant or how this was she wasn't quite sure, but Catherine had been called Queen too many times for her to discount the title.

And truthfully, even though she had met Catherine more than a few times, she really wasn't sure if the younger woman was even human.

It would make sense that she was, especially because she was Elizabeth's twin sister, but…

Maybe it was because Catherine wore the guise of the dark Fairy Queen so well, or perhaps because she seemed so unshakable and her gaze was so intuitive and knowing that Gwendolyn found that she really wasn't sure.

Her fantastical imagination envisioned Catherine as some kind of supernatural doppelganger or shape-shifter of some sort before she acknowledged that this theory was ridiculous.

Catherine was totally human.

A super friendly, super nice woman who was just a little…odd.

And yet…

In case Catherine _wasn't,_ Gwendolyn would have to remind herself to do a little research on doppelgangers or shape shifters or supernatural creatures that could take the form of someone else.

Her plan of action regarding the mystery that was Catherine fully explored, her mind turned to the other holes in her knowledge: like where the Batcave or Lair as they called it was and the nagging suspicion that someone who had raised the brothers was now gone.

Gwendolyn would also have given money to know how April, Casey, Catherine, Elizabeth and Sabrina had all met the mutant brothers.

She had an inkling that there were more than a few interesting stories there –especially considering April's earlier comment about meeting Gwendolyn in a 'normal way'- but she had been too polite to pry into that particular comment.

Pushing herself away from the door, she realized that Friday was going to be… something.

She was excited and apprehensive all at the same time. She didn't want to embarrass herself or Donatello or anyone else, but she was damn well going to make a good impression and hope to hell her mouth didn't run away with her like it usually did causing her to say something incredibly embarrassing.

Like calling Donatello's family relationships incestuous.

She grimaced and hunched in on herself. That one was definitely one for the record books of most awkwardly embarrassing things she had ever said.

But she could learn from her mistakes.

And with the exception of Leo and Mikey, she knew everyone else, which meant she shouldn't be as nervous and because she and Donatello weren't going to be alone, she didn't have to worry about classifying it as a 'date'.

It was more like a group of friends all hanging out and…it was totally high school dating 101. But for once that wasn't a bad thing.

Looking at her calendar she groaned. Friday was way too far away, but on the plus side, she had enough time to go shopping for something nice to wear.

Her wardrobe needed a little boost.

She knew that she could never compare to Catherine or Elizabeth in the looks department, but she knew that she cleaned up very well and she was determined that she was going to look her best.

* * *

**I hope that everyone enjoyed! Next up: movie night! XD**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello all! Sorry for the long wait, I apologize profusely. I have gone to the dark side and given into the plot bunny for a Zootopia fic that wouldn't leave me alone, which means I am banging my head against the wall as I have way too many fics going on at once. ack! (I am looking at you Blindsided!) anyway, hopefully I will be able to get back on track soon.**

**As always, thank you to my lovely readers for sticking with this story, and thank you to everyone who took the time to review!**

**Also, a giant thank you to Marie Allen for beta reading this chapter with me as well as for following me down the Zootopia rabbit hole. LOL**

**Anyway... hope everyone enjoys!**

* * *

Chapter 12

**Gwendolyn** took a deep breath, smoothed out her dress -a short, A-line number in black with spaghetti straps and a three flounce hemline that rose just above her knees that was informal enough that it didn't give the impression that she was trying too hard- and rang the doorbell.

The week had flown by as she buried herself in her work, feeling oddly inspired, but she had managed to find time to buy a new dress, get ready and be out the door in time to arrive at the Brownstone an hour than had been planned as per Sabrina's text.

And even though she was a little nervous, she felt ready to face Donatello, his family, his ex and his friends.

She clutched her coat closer around her body and hoped it didn't take too long for someone to answer the door because the whole fashion over warmth decision was one she was hoping she wouldn't regret.

The door suddenly opened and Gwendolyn felt herself blink in surprise at Cath- no, Elizabeth, who stood on the threshold wearing a footed black cat onsie with the hood pulled up over her head, black cat ears sticking straight up in the air, somehow managing to make herself look both adorable and sexy at the same time.

"Hi," Gwendolyn said as Elizabeth gave her a welcoming smile.

"Come in!" Elizabeth said as she stood back and motioned her inside.

Gwendolyn stepped into the foyer of the Brownstone and a sense of awe struck her as she felt like she had just stepped well over one-hundred years back in time.

This impression was suddenly shattered by the incongruity of Elizabeth dressed in a onsie in the center of the opulence; which was a little jarring.

"You can hang your coat up in the closet," Elizabeth told her as she pointed towards the closet.

Opening the closet and divesting herself of her outerwear, she listened to the silence of the house, only hearing a soft clattering noise coming from the kitchen, but no other voices.

About to ask if she had arrived before everyone else, Elizabeth said, "That is a really nice dress."

Feeling pleased, she smiled back. "Thanks."

"Do you have your PJ's in a bag somewhere? Or did you leave them in the car?"

"My PJ's?" she asked in confusion.

"Hey, Sabrina, did you not tell Gwen that we were having a slumber party?" Elizabeth called out towards the kitchen.

"Nae," Sabrina answered as she walked into the hall wearing a onsie much like Elizabeth's, but hers was a deer rather than a cat. "Ye told me tae invite her over early so tha' we could ask her aboot her dates with Donny before everyone else got here," she explained.

Gwendolyn found herself blushing at Sabrina's words and the reason she was there early.

"Exactly, girls' night slumber party," Elizabeth said. "Hence the awesomely cute onsies!" she said as she pulled a tail from behind her and gave it a twirl. "But that's totally okay, we have more onsies," Elizabeth explained as she ushered Gwendolyn upstairs, Sabrina following behind.

"Lizzy," Sabrina hissed, "Ye didnae even ask Gwen if she wanted tae stay, or if she wanted tae be dressed up in a onsie," Sabrina pointed out as they reached the second level. "She's dressed tae impress an' ye want tae shove her into a frumpy animal costume."

Elizabeth paused in the hallway and quickly looked Gwendolyn over from head to toe. "Sorry," she apologized. "I guess I got a little carried away."

"Well," a voice nearly identical to Elizabeth's mused, "It's good to see I'm not the only one who can talk some sense into my errant and overly pushy sister."

Gwendolyn turned towards the voice to see Catherine dressed in a bright orange fox onsie.

"It's okay," Gwendolyn said as she looked down at her dress. "I confess… I do feel a little overdressed at the moment," she admitted.

"Ye dinnae have tae," Sabrina assured her. "April will be wearing normal clothes," she pointed out.

"Is April coming over with Casey?" Catherine asked Elizabeth.

"Yeah, she had to work late," Elizabeth grumbled.

Gwendolyn bit her lip with indecision. She hadn't planned on staying, and she was pretty sure she hadn't had a slumber party since high school. "I didn't bring-" she began.

"Oh, that's no biggie," Elizabeth said, waving off Gwendolyn's concerns. "We have toothpaste and new toothbrushes, and there are tons of places to sleep."

"Ye realize tha' the boys are goin' tae be here in an hour, which means that yer girls' night with be filled with men, right?" Sabrina asked.

"That's why it's perfect. Girl talk, bring over guys, flirt, send them packing, more girl talk," Elizabeth replied as she motioned for everyone to pile into what appeared to be a bedroom -probably Elizabeth's.

Sabrina shook her head in resignation and threw herself onto the gorgeous dark wood queen-sized bed.

"Bunny or teddy bear?" Elizabeth questioned as she held up a grey bunny onsie in one hand and a brown bear onsie in the other.

"Uh…" Gwendolyn hesitated.

"What I would like to know, El," Catherine interposed as Gwendolyn looked from one onsie to the other, "is why you have a pile of animal onesies?" she queried.

"Sabrina got them for me," Elizabeth answered.

"Okay, but why?" Catherine asked.

"Because they are adorable!" Elizabeth replied with a bright grin.

"I was doin' a photo shoot for a company tha' distributes them for Halloween. I thought they were cute so I asked Lizzy if she wanted any," Sabrina explained. "I don't just do weddings and graphic novels ye know," she said with a smile.

"And it was a great deal, buy one get one free," Elizabeth added, which explained why she had six of them.

"What I dinnae ken," Sabrina began as Elizabeth held up the bunny and bear onsies in turn in front of Gwendolyn, "is why you are dressed as the cat an' Cat is dressed as the fox."

"Because Cat alwaysgets to be the cat. _Always_. So I want to be the cat for once. And Cat picked the fox because… What was the word?" she asked Catherine.

"Apropos," Catherine answered with a sly smile.

"Right. It was apropos," Elizabeth said with a nod. "Cat's a fox, Sabrina's a deer and Gwen's…a bunny," she said with a nod as she tossed the teddy bear onsie at Sabrina. "A hot bunny who needs to wear that dress when you and Donny are alone," she added with a wink.

Gwendolyn blushed to the roots of her hairline at Elizabeth's words. "I-" she began but was cut off when Elizabeth tossed the bunny onsie at her.

"Bathroom's in there," Elizabeth said pointing at the open door to the right. "And hurry up, we have some serious girl talk to get to," she shouted at Gwendolyn's back as she entered the posh bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Clutching the onsie to her chest like some kind of shield, she looked around the bathroom and breathed out a soft sigh at the luxury of it. She drooled over the claw-footed tub and the marble countertops before pulling her gaze away and staring at herself in the mirror.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled the onsie away from her chest and looked at it. She had to admit, it was cute, and giving herself a once-over, decided that Elizabeth was right. The dress she was wearing was great and she felt pretty damn good in it, but she liked the idea of her and Donatello being alone when he saw her in it.

Stripping the dress from her body, she slipped into the onsie.

She wasn't sure if she was going to spend the night. A sleepover sounded a little much, especially because she hadn't planned on staying over, but she had a sneaking suspicion that she would be 'convinced.' Read: cajoled, into staying.

When she had met Elizabeth, she had known that the younger woman was possessed of a devil-may-care attitude and a bright, vivacious character. Gwendolyn had just never realized how overpowering the woman's sheer will and personality were.

It appeared that everyone caved to it and Gwendolyn knew that she would be very hard pressed to stand up to her.

Studying herself in the mirror, she pulled up the hood, thankful that it didn't appear that make-overs were going to be part of the night's events and mentally prepared herself to be the object of the other womens' rampant curiosity.

Taking a deep breath, she mentally prepped herself.

She felt a little like she had been invited to the popular kids' table and she was half expecting to walk out and have all three women attired much like she had been and laughing at her for falling for their little trick and it turning into an episode of _Mean Girls._

Opening the bathroom door, she joined the other three women in the bedroom.

Sabrina was still sprawled out upon the bed attired as a deer and Elizabeth, still dressed as a black cat, had joined her. Catherine sat curled up in a dark cherry leather wingback chair silently observing the other two women as they discussed Sabrina's last photography job.

As soon as she stepped from the bathroom, three sets of eyes turned towards her and after she felt relieved that she wasn't being hazed, was hard pressed not to blush.

There were times when she was okay with being the center of attention, like when she was pretending to be someone else at cosplay competitions, but at general social gatherings, she felt uncomfortable and flustered.

"You look adorable," Elizabeth gushed with a wide smile.

Sabrina leapt off the bed.

"Och, aren't ye a bonnie sight," she said as she grasped Gwendolyn's hand and practically pulled her into a hug.

"Awh, look, it's Bambi and Thumper," Elizabeth said as she sat up and took out her phone, taking a picture. "This one is going to the boys."

"T-the boys?" Gwendolyn stammered, her blush growing as Sabrina kept her arm thrown around her shoulders.

"Mikey and Donny of course," Elizabeth said with a sly wink. "But later, because this is going to be a surprise," she said, motioning to the onsie. "And so is this," she said as she threw back her hood revealing her shoulder length tresses dyed dark blue at the roots and fading to a beautiful aquamarine at the tips.

"It's gorgeous!" breathed Sabrina before sudden insight seemed to strike. "So tha's why ye didnea want the fox onsie, it woulda gone horrible with yer hair."

Elizabeth had the grace to look embarrassed. "So?" she defended. "But it's true, Cat is always the cat," Elizabeth pointed out.

Gwendolyn admired the colour, but could admit that she wasn't brave enough to attempt such a striking hairstyle herself.

"Leonardo has not seen your hair yet?" Catherine questioned from the corner.

"Not yet," Elizabeth answered. "Do you think he'll like it?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"It's blue," Sabrina answered. "How could he no'?" she asked.

Elizabeth chuckled. "It's true," she said as she transferred her attention to Gwendolyn. "There was this gorgeous purple I wanted, but it's Donny's colour and the guys kinda have this thing about 'their colours'," she said using air quotes. "It's stupid. But I hope you like purple."

"I do, actually," Gwendolyn answered. "Yellow's my favourite colour though."

"Easter colours," Catherine observed.

"Whatever," Elizabeth waved this observation away, "Raph is a walking advertisement for Christmas."

Catherine gave an appreciative smirk and Sabrina laughed and shook her head at the sally.

"Seriously tho'," Sabrina began, "aboot their colours. Clothing doesnae seem to matter too much unless you are dressing up and trying to be sexy, but hair colour, that is a little trickier. Mibay because it's more permanent, I dinna ken," she observed as she stepped away from Gwendolyn's side.

"It's true," Elizabeth added as she slid off the bed. "I'm pretty sure the moment Cat had those red streaks in her hair Raph decided that she was his," she finished darkly.

"For one, you two are the ones who dyed my hair, and for two, that is not what happened," Catherine pointed out as she stood her tone cooling slightly.

Elizabeth's expression turned oddly serious. "He kissed you the day we dyed your hair. And don't tell me you still believe his bullshit story that he thought you were me. He _knew_ it was you. And he-"

"Lizzy," Catherine warned her tone annoyed.

"I'm happy for you, Cat," Elizabeth explained, "you _know_ I am, but Raph is still not my favourite person and I'll _never_ forgive him for what he did to you."

Catherine remained silent but there was a sudden iciness to her features that caused Gwendolyn to take a step back even as curiosity bloomed within her breast.

_What had Raphael done?_ she wondered to herself.

It was obviously something bad enough to have earned Elizabeth's fervent animosity but at the same time, her grudging acceptance.

"How long have you and Raph been married," Gwendolyn asked, trying to break some of the tension and gain some insight into how long ago it was that Catherine and Donatello had been together.

The two sisters stared at each other for a few moments as if they were having some sort of silent conversation.

"Nearly three months," Sabrina supplied into the tense silence. "It was beautiful, even though it was completely impromptu," she added.

"Fine," Elizabeth suddenly said with a huff. "I need a drink," she stated as she walked from the room.

Sabrina glanced at Gwendolyn who gave a one-shouldered shrug.

"They do tha' sometimes," Sabrina explained. "It's a little creepy, but ye get used tae it," she said before following Elizabeth from the room.

Catherine stood, apparently not bothered by Sarina's little aside and Gwendolyn trailed behind Sabrina; Catherine slowly bringing up the rear.

"I though' ye gave up drinkin' because of yer poor life choices when ye do?" Sabrina asked as they followed Elizabeth up to the next floor and down a hallway that opened up into a large theatre room that was every bit as impressive as Gwendolyn imagined it would be.

The huge white screen was hung at one end of the room while twelve recliners, four in each tiered row, sat at the other.

By the door there was a popcorn machine along with a small fridge and a table with a few bottles of wine and wineglasses set up.

Upon the floor in front of the first row of chairs, was a pile of blankets and pillows of all shapes and sizes.

Elizabeth made a bee-line for the wine.

Picking up a bottle she unwrapped the thin foil seal, and took up the corkscrew and popped the cork.

"Sleeping with Leonardo was not a poor life choice," Elizabeth said as she poured half a glass of white wine into four glasses.

"Tha's no' what ye told me," Sabrina said as she picked up a glass of wine and took a sip.

"Fine," Elizabeth conceded. "A poor life choice that turned into a good one," Elizabeth said as she glanced over at Catherine who picked up a glass of wine and twisted it in her fingers, studying the liquid intently and apparently ignoring her sister's glance.

Sabrina shoved the remaining glass into Gwendolyn's hand.

"I can drink to tha'," Sabrina said as she raised her glass for a toast.

Catherine smirked and Elizabeth grinned appreciatively.

All three women raised their glasses and Gwendolyn followed suit.

"To poor life choices that turned out well," Sabrina said.

Gwendolyn brought the wine up to her lips. She wasn't much of a wine drinker…or a drinker in general, but she found that the wine was sweet and surprisingly pleasant.

Pulling the wine away, she glanced at the assembled women. Elizabeth had just finished her glass, a smile spreading across her features.

"Well, that's a start," Elizabeth said as Sabrina chuckled and held out her own wineglass to be topped up as Elizabeth refilled both glasses.

"Gwen?" Elizabeth asked, holding up the bottle.

"Uh…" she looked at her wineglass in indecision.

Elizabeth smiled and filled her glass to the brim, finishing off the bottle.

"Are you trying to get her drunk?" Catherine asked in a curious tone.

Gwendolyn sipped the wine so she wouldn't end up spilling the nearly full glass upon the carpet.

"No," Elizabeth said with a wide grin, "only to the point where she is totally okay with confessing her deepest, darkest secrets."

Gwendolyn choked on her wine as Sabrina laughed.

"Dinnae worry. Lizzy will blab all o' her secrets way before ye," Sabrina said with a motion of her hand, her wine sloshing in her glass.

"I would take offence to that," Elizabeth said as she drank half of her wine in one gulp, before she continued, "except that she's right," she finished with a wink.

Gwendolyn gave an unsure smile as she hid behind her glass and she took another drink, wondering what she had gotten herself into.

Of their own volition, her eyes searched for Catherine who was sitting upon a reclining chair in the front row, pillows and blankets strewn around her feet, her attention on her wine glass.

"El?" Catherine asked in an inquiring tone, "Did you know that the bases of these wineglasses fit perfectly into these cup holders?"

Snatching up another bottle of wine while Sabrina snagged the corkscrew, Elizabeth walked over to where Catherine sat, plopping down upon a pillow in front of her sister. "Of course," she said as she placed her wineglass into an empty cup holder so that the stem was hidden within the cup holder while the curved cup of the glass rested on the top. "Why do you think I bought them?" she wondered.

Catherine nodded thoughtfully and that was when Gwendolyn realized that Catherine had not been studying the wine earlier, but rather the glass itself, which was a little…odd.

The sister's earlier…disagreement, if you could call it that, was apparently at an end as Elizabeth sat back against the base of the recliner right beside Catherine's legs.

"So, Gwen," Sabrina began as three sets of eyes studied her as she sat opposite the twins and beside Sabrina on the floor, "How do ye find Oor Donny?"

Gwendolyn found herself doing a slow blink of incomprehension. Used to dealing with the near unintelligible linguistic phenomenon of Newfoundland English, she found herself stumped by what the sound 'ooer' meant.

"'Oor' means 'our,'" Catherine supplied helpfully. "Usually denoting a family connection of sorts to set them apart from all of the other Donatellos that you may know."

"Oh," Gwendolyn said with a blush, not sure what she was supposed to say. She knew that Donatello had wanted to keep their dates quiet from his family, with the exception of Catherine who already knew, but Elizabeth and Sabrina had indicated earlier in the evening that they already knew.

Realizing she hadn't answered the question she began to stammer. "Uh… I-"

"April blabbed," Elizabeth interrupted. "We know you had two dates with Donny, so spill," she prompted.

She felt her face turn beet red as her already present blush intensified. "I-I…" she ducked her head down. "I like him," she said in a soft, embarrassed voice

"Awwhhhh," Elizabeth breathed out, her eyes shining. "That's so sweet."

Gwendolyn took another gulp of her wine.

"Donny deserves to be happy," Elizabeth continued. "Especially after the crap Raph and Cat put him through," she added.

Catherine frowned and raised an eyebrow at the accusation.

Gwendolyn found herself listening intently, both uncomfortable and curious about the events pertaining to Donatello and Catherine's relationship and more specifically, the end of it.

"Come on, Cat, don't give me that look, you know it's true. He's been fucking stressed and depressed since you and Raph ran away together."

"We-" Catherine let out a huff of air and changed what she had been about to say. "I didn't think you would have noticed Donatello's feelings, after all, you were-"

Elizabeth interrupted, her voice harsh, "-Too busy worrying about the fact that my sister ran away with the psycho instead of staying with the good brother? No, I noticed. And unlike you, I was here, watching Donny burn himself out trying to find you."

Gwendolyn found herself flinching at the biting words and suddenly worried she was about to be caught in the middle of a family squabble.

"Ye cannae lay everythin' upon Cat's door, Lizzy. Havin' you an' Leo an' me an' Mikey constantly shoved in his face dinnae help him any," Sabrina soothed but neither sister was paying any attention to what the Scottish woman was saying.

Catherine's eyes narrowed, "Raphael is not a psycho."

"Sorry, you're right," Elizabeth amended, "the fucking _unstable _brother, how is that?"

Catherine's eyes remained narrowed, but not in anger, instead her gaze was speculative. "You are unusually quarrelsome, Lizzy, and considering the fact that you wanted a girls' night, I find this behaviour to be somewhat anomalous," Catherine observed. "So perhaps you should stop trying to pick a fight with me and instead tell us what is really bothering you."

Elizabeth looked much struck before her mask of angry annoyance crumbed to be replaced by worry. "I'm sorry, Kitty," Elizabeth breathed out. "I'm taking my shit out on you," she admitted as Catherine lifted an imperious eyebrow. "I…" she bit her lip before taking another gulp of wine, "it's me and Leo."

Gwendolyn found herself clutching her glass of wine a little more tightly.

"Lizzy?" Sabrina prompted as she placed a hand upon her friend's shoulder. "I thought things were good between ye?"

Elizabeth studied her glass and shrugged. "Things _are _really good."

"But?" Sabrina prompted.

"But…I want more," she whispered miserably.

"More?" Sabrina wondered.

Elizabeth answered Sabrina. "I feel shitty being all bitchy about this 'cause you've had to deal with this shit for far longer than I have, and I love having you as a roommate, but… I'm tired of feeling like Leo's just crashing here, or I'm crashing at the lair, and our lives are still just…separate and it doesn't feel like it's ever going to change and if it doesn't…" her voice trailed off.

"Lizzy," Sabrina began her eyes wide with shock, "Ye cannae be thinkin' o' breakin' up with Leo?" she asked with breathless intensity.

"I know we've only been together for nine months which is like a drop in the bucket compared to you and Mikey and your almost two years, but this is the longest I've ever been in a relationship and I know Leo's like, _the one_, but I can't live the rest of my life without... I want us to have a _home_ together," she explained. "And I…I can't even talk to him about it," she finished miserably as she polished off her glass of wine and poured another glass.

Elizabeth turned her attention to Catherine. "Cat, I'm just jealous that…that you and Raph live together. Sabrina and I are both on the same shitty ride and I'm pretty sure I want to get off," Elizabeth explained miserably.

Catherine made no reply and Elizabeth didn't appear to be waiting for one.

"Lizzy," Sabrina protested. "As someone who's been on this ride longer than ye have, I ken what ye are feelin' but I think that ye should jist talk tae Leo."

"There's no talking to him, you know that," Elizabeth seethed. "Leo doesn't feel comfortable actually living here and with this place," she motioned with her hand encompassing the room, "he doesn't like the thought of us living-" she paused her eyes flicking to Gwendolyn before continuing, "where they live," she amended. "He can't handle the thought of us living there and no matter how many times I explain to him that we are totally okay with it, he won't listen. He thinks our worlds aren't supposed to mix. If I bring it up, it will only reinforce his idea that we were just fooling ourselves into believing it could work."

Sabrina bit her lip and looked into her wineglass

Gwendolyn looked back and forth between the two women, not quite able to fully appreciate the situation. If Catherine and Raphael lived together, she didn't understand why Sabrina and Mikey and Leo and Elizabeth couldn't as well.

"Mikey is gonnae move in here," Sabrina admitted hesitantly.

"What!" Elizabeth gasped.

"I shouldae asked ye, I'm sorry. It's yer house-"

"Leo said yes?" Elizabeth asked in shock, completely ignoring Sabrina's contrition.

"Well…" Sabrina's words trailed off. "Mikey is gonnae talk tae him."

"So that's a no," Elizabeth huffed out despondently.

"After Raph and Cat leave, he was going tae tell him that he's moving oot."

"Leo'll never let him," Elizabeth said morosely.

"He cannae-" Sabrina began, her eyes flashing with frustrated anger.

"He can and will," Elizabeth shot back. "Leo's the oldest and his word is law and I'm sorry, but Mikey can't stand up to him and-"

"Lizzy," Catherine interrupted, her voice -though soft- managing to silence her sister with the cadence, "If you had the choice, where would you live?' she questioned. "Here or the lair?"

Elizabeth turned her attention back to her sister. "Honestly?" she asked. Catherine gave a nod. "I like it here," she admitted. "I like the rooms and the kitchen and the backyard. I like my art room in the basement and this theatre room."

"But?" Catherine prompted.

"Leo is more attached to the lair than I am to this place. He's comfortable there. The dojo is there and his meditation room and the memories of his father, so I would be okay with living in the lair with him."

"And you, Sabrina?" she asked. "Where would you choose to live?"

"I dinnae care. The lair or here, it's all the same tae me. But I think if Lizzy and Leo were there, I would rather be here with Mikey, only because the lair would feel a bit crowded," she admitted. "But I dinnae know if I could afford the rent on this place if Lizzy left."

"I was not aware that you were paying rent," Catherine observed.

Sabrina blushed. "I'm no', but I dinnae think that if Lizzy left, that you would let me an' Mikey live here for free."

"Well," Elizabeth cut in before Catherine could answer Sabrina's monetary concern, "it doesn't matter because neither of us will ever be able to move in with our boyfriends anyway," she finished petulantly.

"It sounds as if it is time for you to deal with your relationship issues, Lizzy," Catherine observed.

"Cat, you know-"

"I know," Catherine interjected, "Leonardo is stubborn, obstinate and when you go against his will and wound his pride, then all of his walls go up and he can be quite fearsome and it will cause him to dig in his heels and become all noble and self-sacrificing, but you need to repress your first instinct to take the easy way out and run away and instead have an adult conversation with your boyfriend about where exactly your relationship is going."

"And when Leo shuts me down and tells me that he's going to end things with me for my own good and that he can't give me the life I deserve, then what?" she asked, her voice confrontational and angry.

"Then you will have to decide if you are going to give up, or if your relationship, your future with Leonardo, is worth fighting for," Catherine replied calmly.

"And if it is, then what?" she asked in frustration. "How am I supposed to convince him that all I care about is being with him and that all I want is for him to feel the same way?"

"Well, you never know, Lizzy," Catherine mused, "Leo could surprise you."

Elizabeth glowered darkly at her sister's words.

"He's changed a lot since you two have been together," Catherine defended, "and for the better, I might add. You might not even have to persuade him. It is possible that he feels the same way and that he wants to move your relationship forward as well."

"And if he does want the same thing but I can't change his mind?" Elizabeth asked bitingly.

"Then we send in the big guns!" Sabrina exclaimed.

"The big guns?" Elizabeth asked in confusion.

"It's no' jist yer happiness that's at stake here, Lizzy," Sabrina explained. "If Leo decides to be an arse, then we send in Cat."

Catherine lifted an inquiring eyebrow.

Elizabeth looked annoyed but didn't seem willing to discount the option that had been suggested. "Fine," she finally agreed. "If Leo decides to be all stubborn and noble, we'll get Cat to have a nice 'friendly chat' with him."

"You say chat like it has quotation marks around it," Catherine objected.

"I've never seen Leo walk away from any confrontation you've had with him unscathed," Elizabeth observed wryly.

Catherine did not reply to this charge and instead said, "I don't think I agreed to go toe to toe with Leonardo on your behalves."

"We wouldnea ask ye if we were no' desperate," Sabrina said with a shake of her head. "And yer the only one who can tell Leo what to do."

"I-" Catherine responded before she was interrupted.

"_Please_, Cat," Elizabeth begged as she clasped her hands together and Sabrina copied the entreaty.

Catherine let out a huff of air. "Alright," she grudgingly agreed.

Both women cheered at Catherine's words.

"If he wasnae standin' in the way o' me an' Mikey, I'd almost feel sorry for 'im." Sabrina said with a chuckle.

"I'm only going to _talk_ with him, not-" Catherine began to protest before Elizabeth interrupted.

"Come on, Cat, it's _Leo,_" Elizabeth added knowingly, "he's going to say something to piss you off and then you'll go all Ice Queen on his ass."

Catherine sighed and shook her head. "Lizzy, you know I don't like-"

"-abusing your power," Elizabeth supplied, "I know. But it's for his own good and the good of Sabrina and Mikey as well."

"Fine," Catherine conceded. "But only, and this is a big stipulation_, _if you _try _your very best to convince Leonardo on your own first. My interference will only be at the point where Leonardo has decided to put you at an impasse."

"Deal!"

"And no sabotaging it. If you do, I'll know," Catherine warned.

"Promise," Elizabeth said as she crossed her finger over her heart.

Sabrina lifted her glass, "Tae Oor Ice Queen," Sabrina toasted as Elizabeth raised her glass. "An' a moment of respective silence for Leo, may he not be an arse and if he is, may he come back withoot frostbite," she sniggered as Elizabeth laughed.

"I'm not toasting that," Catherine said depressingly, but she wore a smile indicating that she was amused.

Gwendolyn raised her glass in toast and took a deep gulp of her wine, the warmth spreading throughout her body indicating that she had perhaps drank a little more than was strictly prudent, but she had been rather caught up in the dramatics that were unfolding before her.

Reflecting upon what she had gleaned from the conversation she learned that Catherine really had broken Donatello's heart by leaving him for Raphael, and though she wished she could hate the other woman for it, she found that she really couldn't.

Hate was a strong word and an even darker emotion and since Donatello did not hate her, she found that she couldn't hate her either.

If Catherine loved Raphael enough to leave Donatello for him, then she could only be glad that she had let Donatello go and not led him on. Both appeared to have parted on good terms and though Donatello still seemed to have feelings for Catherine, he appeared to be determined to move on.

Catherine seemed genuinely concerned for Donatello's happiness and welfare. This didn't mean Gwendolyn was in complete and total charity with her, but she was willing to like her.

As for Elizabeth and Sabrina being unable to move in with their respective boyfriends, she had been lost in that particular conversation.

She didn't understand why Leonardo would be so dead-set against moving in with Elizabeth or having Elizabeth move in with him and why he would prevent Mikey from doing the same with Sabrina.

However, it was the last part of the conversation that had confused her the most.

Elizabeth had stated that Leonardo's word was law, which she didn't quite understand and she was truthfully having problems wrapping her inebriated brain around the idea that Catherine had the ability to overrule him.

Was Catherine actually their Queen?

Sabrina and Elizabeth had both called Catherine the Ice Queen, but…that sounded too preposterous, even in the context of mutant turtles.

And it wasn't as if she could come out and just ask. It was too embarrassing. But she couldn't deny that there had been way too many references to Catherine being called Queen to dismiss it.

Her best course of action would be to assume she was until someone told her otherwise.

Focusing back on the conversation at hand, Elizabeth was planning a strategy for how to approach Leonardo, and after a few moments, Gwendolyn realized that Catherine's attention was not focused upon her sister, but was instead firmly fixed upon her.

Trying not to be disturbed by this, it wasn't long before Elizabeth's voice trailed off and she followed her sister's gaze.

"Why are we talking about me?" Elizabeth suddenly asked.

"I believe it is a favourite topic of yours," Catherine smoothly observed and Elizabeth easily ignored the dig.

"We are supposed to be pumping Gwen for info about her and Donny!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Aye," Sabrina agreed. "'Tis yer fault, Lizzy," Sabrina accused, but her voice was light and teasing. "Ye got distracted an' sidetracked all of us from juicy gossip."

Gwendolyn felt her cheeks warm and her antagonism towards Catherine flare as three sets of eyes settled upon her.

Feeling very much like the rabbit she was dressed up as, with the surrounding women the predators, hungry for gossip, Gwendolyn braced herself for the incoming onslaught.

"Have you two had sex yet?" Elizabeth asked bluntly and Gwendolyn choked on her wine.

"Och, Lizzy. They havnae even had a date where someone else was no' there," Sabrina said, giving Gwendolyn a pat on the back, as if this would somehow clear her airway.

"Then Gwen seriously needs to get Donny alone. And wear the dress you were wearing today, you'll get him in the sack quick enough," Elizabeth asserted.

Gwendolyn recovered from her coughing fit, but felt unequal to the task of responding to Elizabeth's blunt suggestion.

"Not everyone is interested in jumping into bed after the first date, El," Catherine pointed out.

Elizabeth only shrugged. "Her loss," she said before giving an ear to ear grin. "But just a warning, once you go mutant turtle, you can't ever go back," she leered as she raised her wine glass in a mock salute.

"I cannae argue with tha'," Sabrina giggled as she struck Elizabeth's wine glass lightly with her own.

Feeling her face burning with embarrassment, a buzzing sound caught the attention of the assembled women.

"Someone's here," Elizabeth said as she hopped up.

"Wonder if it's Casey and April or the guys?" Sabrina asked as she too stood up.

Catherine's eyes caught Gwendolyn's as she scrambled up off the floor. "Saved by the bell," Catherine mused with a wink. "Enjoy the reprieve while you can," she said with a chuckle.

Gwendolyn followed Sabrina and Elizabeth from the theatre room, Catherine seeming content to stay where she was.

Giving one last glance at the younger woman over her shoulder, Gwendolyn made her way down to the main floor as nervousness, apprehension, embarrassment and excitement all warring within her at the sound of Donatello's voice drifting down the hallway.

* * *

**I know, evil author. And I know, no Gwen/Donny action, but a little girl time never hurt anyone;) But don't worry, next chapter, lots of Gwen and Donny time.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello everyone, I hope you all had a nice weekend!**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter which is a 'blink and it's gone' chapter for some reason even though it clocks in at 15 pages. But as promised a Donatello Gwen chappie so yay!**

**I want to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed, I apologize for not replying to all of your lovely reviews, I have been suffering from a flu I can't seem to kick this past week and a bit:( But I will hopefully be able to catch up:)**

**As always, thank you to my lovely beta Marie Allen for beta reading this for me. Any mistakes are mine and my flu induced mind's fault:/**

**Anyway, please enjoy!**

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Chapter 13

**Donatello** jostled for space in the foyer, the spacious entryway never feeling so incredibly small as his four brothers, Elizabeth, and Sabrina vied for standing room.

Both women had rosy cheeks and overly bright eyes and Donatello wondered if they had been drinking. Elizabeth, for reasons possibly due to inebriation, was dressed in a cat onsie, while Sabrina was dressed as a deer.

Sensing a theme, Donatello stumbled forward as Raphael pushed past him, heading towards the kitchen, probably in search of Catherine who wasn't in the foyer.

Donatello didn't see Gwendolyn either and his heart sank at the realization that she hadn't come.

Truthfully though, he couldn't blame her, not really. She had been bombarded by his best friends and then he had sent mixed signals over whether he had wanted her there or not.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he glanced over at the stairway where Gwendolyn was standing halfway down the staircase -as if hesitant to join in the greetings that were taking place- a blush staining her cheeks as she peeked at him from beneath the hood of a bunny onsie.

Donatello could feel his own cheeks darken with embarrassment at the picture she was presenting of a shy bunny and he found her to be so cute he that he was struck speechless.

A pleased smile cross his face.

The women had apparently all dressed up in animal onsies and Gwendolyn had obviously been treated as one of the group and she looked to have readily gone along with them.

It was true that he and Gwendolyn didn't have an official title attached to whatever they were yet, but it wasn't until this moment that he had realized just how important it was for whoever he brought into his life to get along with everyone else who he loved and who was important to him.

Gwendolyn smiled back at him and her blush deepened.

Donatello walked up the stairs to meet her only to be roughly shoved out of the way as Raphael growled, "Move," under his breath.

Gwendolyn was jostled by his older brother and she lost her balance, falling into Donatello who easily caught her in his arms.

"Raph!" Donatello shouted up the stairs, annoyed with his brother's attitude.

Raphael paused, looking over his shoulder and giving him a wink before continuing up the stairs.

Donatello felt himself flush at Raphael having purposefully shoved Gwendolyn into his arms. Stomping down on his embarrassment and slight irritation, he glanced down at Gwendolyn. "Sorry about that," he apologized.

"What's his problem anyway?" Gwendolyn huffed out as she straightened her hood and glanced up at him.

"Uh…" Donatello wasn't sure how to answer that -he was already embarrassed enough- and replied, "Raph's just…Raph."

Realizing he had just given her a non-answer, he looked up the empty staircase.

Raphael had been in a terrible mood the entire van ride to the Brownstone -seemed overly anxious to see Catherine- and Donatello wasn't sure what was going on.

He knew that Raphael had mentioned that Catherine had been acting off, but his brother had quickly changed the subject and brushed it off as nothing.

Donatello knew that Catherine's strange behaviour most likely had a lot to do with Catherine attempting to further Raphael's recovery and suspected that this was what Raphael was picking up on.

But he had to admit, Raphael's foul mood only seemed to increase daily. "I think he just wants to go home," he observed, reaching this probable conclusion for Raphael's moodiness.

A twinge of heartbreak echoed in his chest at the fact that his brother's home was no longer with them. He was happy that Raphael had found a home where he actually _wanted_ to be, but was still saddened by the fact that his brother had again expressed his irritation with Catherine's refusal to leave the lair and head back to their cabin in Canada.

"Home?" Gwendolyn questioned curiously.

His eyes strayed from the stairs to the woman that had been shoved into his arms and had yet to relinquish.

"It's far away from here," he answered cryptically. It wasn't a lie, but he was not going to tell Gwendolyn where Catherine and Raphael lived.

Gwendolyn gave a small nod of understanding and Donatello wondered how long she would be accepting of the secrets he was keeping.

A commotion at the door signaled the arrival of Casey and April. Casey's voice was heard over the din of greetings as he wondered where he should put the six-pack he was carrying.

April's eyes scanned the assembled party and rested upon Donatello and Gwendolyn for a moment, giving them a big smile. Divesting herself of her outerwear April looked down at her jeans and grey turtleneck sweater and complained that she felt left out

"I've got a bear onsie," Elizabeth offered with a grin, the hood of her cat onsie falling back as she jostled coats in the closet to reveal her shoulder length hair, dyed darkening shades of blue until it reached the tips.

"I love your hair!" April exclaimed and Elizabeth blushed, her gaze flying to Leonardo who was standing at her side, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers before leaning forward and whispering something into Elizabeth's ear.

Whatever it was that his brother had said, Elizabeth's uncertain expression was transformed into one of pleased lasciviousness, and Donatello gathered that his oldest brother liked the hair colour.

Trying to stomp down on the uncomfortable flash of jealousy that reared its ugly head at the relationship between Elizabeth and Leonardo, he reminded himself that he had the same chance at something with Gwendolyn, who was even now still pressed into his side.

It was true that he and Gwendolyn's relationship was still in its early stages and very new, but he couldn't help wanting what his brothers had; that security of knowing that they had found their mates and knowing that the women loved them back with equal intensity.

Michelangelo suddenly entered his line of vision and his baby brother walked up a step so that he stood before Gwendolyn and himself.

"Hey, Gwen," Michelangelo began, a charming smile spread across his face. "It's nice to finally meet you. Name's Mikey, and if you didn't know, I'm the fun brother," he added with a wink and Donatello repressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Donny here's the smart one and Leo's…" he paused in thought, turning his attention to Donatello. "Would you say Leo's the _least_ fun one or is it Raph?" Michelangelo asked curiously.

"Donatello!" Leonardo barked lowly interrupting whatever Michelangelo was going to say, causing both Donatello and Michelangelo's spines to stiffen and their muscles to tense at the furious tone of Leonardo's voice.

Donatello's eyes met Leonardo's and Michelangelo slowly looked over his shoulder at their blue-masked brother, who stood stiffly a few feet away, his face pulled into lines of stern disapproval.

"Leo it is," Michelangelo murmured conspiratorially out the side of his mouth.

"Who is _that_?" Leonardo asked darkly and Donatello stared at his oldest brother in confusion before glancing over at Gwendolyn who looked extremely uncomfortable.

Michelangelo looked back and forth between Donatello and Leonardo before Donatello could see the light bulb go off in his brother's mind.

"Uh…. Did no one tell Leo about Donny's girlfriend?" he asked the now hushed observers still packed into the foyer.

Donatello felt his face flame at his baby brother's assumption of his and Gwendolyn's relationship as the room remained silent. He swore he heard metaphorical crickets chirping as eyes darted back and forth between Leonardo and Gwendolyn.

"Right, good luck with that," Michelangelo said as he turned and patted Donatello on the shoulder before scrambling up the stairs.

"Sorry, dude," Casey said as he passed, followed by April who gave him an apologetic look as she climbed the stairs.

"Yeah, I'm staying out of this one," Elizabeth whispered under her breath as she hurried up the steps, Sabrina walking beside her friend as she rolled her eyes and shook her head, but remaining silent, obviously not wanting to interfere.

"What is going on?" Gwendolyn whispered, her voice confused and a little uncertain.

"Leo, this is Gwen," Donatello said in a challenging voice as Leonardo approached. "Gwen, this is my oldest brother, Leo. Gwen was the golden fairy-"

"I remember," Leonardo interrupted as he stood nose to beak in front of Gwen. "It's nice to meet you," he said with a polite smile before sending a look Donatello's way that promised that he was going to get an earful later.

"Is it?" Gwendolyn challenged and Leonardo gave her a tight smile before brushing past the both and heading to the third floor.

Donatello blew out an irritated breath.

Gwendolyn looked up at him. "You know that day that I got a little hurt and annoyed that you didn't really want anyone to know about us?" she questioned rhetorically. "I take it back, your family is a shit show."

Her eyes widened in horror and she clapped her hands over her mouth. "Sorry," she apologized from behind her hand. "I didn't mean to say…" her voice trailed off in embarrassment.

Donatello wanted to feel a little stung by her comments, but at the moment, his mindset was in perfect harmony with hers.

He laughed, because although he was still irritated with the situation, he could still see the humour in it. "You have no idea," he replied, which caused her to lower her hands, give him a small smile and chuckle.

"Is he always this…pleasant?" Gwendolyn asked diplomatically.

"Leo is… not the fun brother," he said using Michelangelo's words. "He doesn't like surprises. Or change."

"So you guys are like the Smurfs, or the seven dwarves: Smarty, Silly, Angry and stick-up-the-assy."

He looked at her.

"What?" she asked innocently, "I couldn't think of an adjective for stern."

Donatello frowned in thought. "Austerey? Authoritariany? Stricty?" he suggested, before grinning. "No, I think I like yours better," he mused.

She blushed and he loved the way the colour stained her cheeks.

"Seriously though," Gwendolyn said to him and Donatello felt the grin fall from his face in apprehension. "I have to lay off the wine before I say something really bad, but before I become sensible again, I have to ask," she paused and Donatello waited with somewhat baited breath. "Leo and Liz, are they really a thing?" she asked lowly, as if she was afraid of being overheard.

Donatello relaxed and gave a wry smile. "Believe it or not, that's Leo in a good, understanding kind of mood. He was waaaay worse before he started dating El."

"I don't believe you," Gwendolyn said in a monotone.

Donatello laughed.

"Hey!" Michelangelo yelled.

Donatello and Gwendolyn looked up the stairwell and saw Michelangelo pop his head over the railing.

"You two are holding up movie night, and Cat says she has a surprise, so get up here before I die of curiosity!"

Donatello shook his head in resignation, disappointed that his private moment with Gwendolyn had been interrupted and effectively put to an end.

Motioning for Gwendolyn to precede him, he followed her up and entered the theatre room where his family and friends waited.

"Great!" Michelangelo said as he practically vibrated with excitement as he stood by Catherine who was standing in front of the movie screen, a glass of wine in one hand and two blank Blu-ray disk cases in the other.

Donatello's gaze scanned the room, finding Elizabeth sprawled on the blanket in front of the first row of chairs, Sabrina beside her. Raphael sat one seat in from the row beside Casey, who sat beside April, who now wore a bear onsie while Leonardo stood off to the side, apparently not having chosen a spot yet.

"Where did you want to sit?" he asked Gwendolyn.

"Maybe the back row?" she asked looking to him for approval of her suggestion.

As he had no reason to protest, he led the way up to the fourth row, selecting the two seats in the middle, mostly to discourage any of his unseated brothers from sitting beside him.

Of course, this was assuming both Michelangelo and Leonardo would want to sit with their mates; though with both women apparently content to sit on the floor, he wasn't sure if this plan would be successful.

"Thank you all for coming," Catherine began, catching everyone's attention, Michelangelo bounced from foot to foot in agitated, impatient excitement. "As Casey pointed out, it has been a very long time since… Well, actually I'm pretty sure we've never _all_ been together for a movie night before," she mused with a smirk. "And as this is a special occasion, we have to watch a special movie and we have two to choose from," she paused for dramatic effect and to make sure everyone was paying attention. "Our choices are: _Captain America: Civil War_, or_ Suicide Squad_."

"Seriously!" Gwendolyn gasped in shock as she sat bolt upright in her chair.

Donatello straightened, his attention caught by the second title. His gaze snapped to the back of Raphael's head wishing that he was able to see the look on his brother's face at the mention of suicide.

Leonardo froze, his face paling, but everyone else seemed oblivious to the possible ramifications of Raphael being reminded of his attempt to end his life.

"Wait. What?" Michelangelo said in confusion. "_Civil War_ has been screened for critics but it hasn't been released yet and _Suicide Squad_ isn't out in theatres until August. How did you? Wait? Is this some kind of leaked, crappy cam video because I am so not watching-"

"It is straight from Marvel Studios and DC Entertainment," Catherine said with a mischievous smile.

"How'd you make that happen?" Casey asked with a not inconsiderable amount of awe.

Donatello wondered if there really was some small bit of truth to the rumour that both Marvel and DC comics were trying to woo The Raven into either selling or allowing one or the other to put their stamp on the _Harbinger_ series.

"Because she's Cat!" Michelangelo said with bubbling enthusiasm. "And Cat is the most awesome, amazing, bestest, sister-in-law ever and I…I…." Michelangelo's voice trailed off and his face fell, looking miserable and so very guilty.

"It's okay, Michelangelo," Catherine said as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not so cruel as to _actually_ make you choose between the two movies. I hope everyone is good for pretty much spending the night because it is going to be a long one. But one movie will need to be watched first."

Michelangelo looked like a kicked puppy.

"So I will leave that decision to all of you while Michelangelo and I go and grab the bowls and napkins I forgot to bring up for the popcorn."

With this pronouncement, Michelangelo's eyes widened with surprise, followed by quick disappointment and finishing with imminent doom.

Catherine placed the two movies down and turned her attention to Michelangelo.

"Okay," Michelangelo said, shoulders slumping in defeat as he slowly followed Catherine as she walked from the room.

Donatello had a feeling that Catherine would not even have to say a word to get Michelangelo to confess the reason for his guilt -mainly the sale of his prized _Harbinger _collection- and would probably add in the fact that he was looking for engagement rings with April, as well as confess to stealing Raphael's blankie when they were four -just for good measure.

He almost felt sorry for his baby brother, but at the same time, found it both amusing and intriguing that Catherine had the ability to so easily read Michelangelo.

Turning his attention back to Leonardo who was frowning and almost made a move to follow the two departing figures, Elizabeth leapt up and distracted him.

She was a little unsteady upon her feet, but waved off Sabrina's help and grabbed the movies. "Okay democracy, time. Hands up for _Civil War_."

Gwendolyn's arm shot up, her other arm snaking around Donatello's arm as she squeezed it with giddy excitement. Suddenly very warm and flushed, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pleasure at making Gwendolyn so happy.

"This is so awesome!" she whispered as she leaned into him and Donatello put up his hand because Gwendolyn was voting for it.

But besides this, he truthfully felt uncomfortable voting for something called _Suicide Squad_.

His stomach rolled and he felt sick at the memories that were brought back: that gut-churning, breath-seizing , heart-stopping feeling of helpless terror as his family frantically searched for Raphael before it was too late.

Looking around, Donatello could see that only Raphael, Casey, and Leonardo had their hands down.

Whether Leonardo was interested in seeing _Suicide Squad_ or just wasn't voting Donatello was unsure, but he was surprised that Raphael was in favour of it.

Leaning over -not that he had to lean far as Gwendolyn was still pushed up as close to him as she could get with the arm of the recliner in the way- he asked in a soft voice, "What's _Suicide Squad_?"

Gwendolyn looked over at him in mock horror, an expression he had been on the receiving end too many times to count when he was asking for clarification on a popular culture or comic book reference.

"You seriously don't know?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

He shook his head.

"Have you been living under a rock?" she asked before quickly saying, "Don't answer that." She looked him in the eyes. "Have you watched any of the Marvel or DC movies that have come out lately?" she asked him.

"Maybe?" he replied truthfully. He might have. He had watched many movies with Catherine and Elizabeth, but thinking back on it, he was pretty sure that he hadn't sat down and watched a movie since Catherine had kidnapped Raphael. It had been hard dragging him away from his lab after they had disappeared and he had begun to search for them in earnest, and he found that he was too busy for distractions. Even after Catherine had revealed their location, he hadn't stopped, mainly because he was trying to not feel like a third or fifth wheel. And this had worked and everyone had left him alone until Catherine had re-entered his life and bodily dragged him from his lab and decided to meddle in his life.

Turning his attention away from his sister-in-law and back to the woman hanging off of his arm, he noticed Gwendolyn looked disappointed by his answer and he replied, "I'm not much into action movies," he stated truthfully. "Or ones based on comic books."

Gwendolyn looked even more disappointed in him. "I don't dislike them," he hurried to explain, but she didn't look like she believed him.

Casting about desperately to redeem himself in her eyes, he offered, "I like _Harbinger_." This was true, he did enjoy Catherine's comic.

Gwendolyn perked up. "Yes! The Raven is something! I might be partial to the _Alice in Wonderland_ graphic novel, but it's mostly because I designed the costumes."

He gave a smile before his mind returned to a more serious concern.

"I'm sorry, but something called _Suicide Squad_…" his voice trailed off as sudden comprehension lit her eyes.

"Yeah, I get it, it sounds horrible, and I guess if it was real, it would be. But basically its about this government organization sends these irredeemable villains to go on so called 'suicide missions' to save the world or die trying."

"Oh," he replied as he rolled this information around in his mind. Besides the criminal part and the government organization, it didn't really sound much different than the lives his brothers had led up until recently. And if that was the case, he could see why Raphael wouldn't be bothered by the premise of the movie.

"_Civil War_ it is," Elizabeth said as her eyes scanned the room.

"Oh, come on!" Raphael protested. "It's the Joker!"

"Don't care, five to three, _Civil War_ wins," Elizabeth said in reply as Gwendolyn gave a fist pump of excitement while Donatello relaxed, both Gwendolyn's explanation as well as Raphael's apparent lack of concern or apprehension about the title relieving his worries.

"I call for a recount when Mikey and Catherine get back," Raphael huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest petulantly.

"Och, Cat did us a favour gittin' Mikey outta here," Gwendolyn said with a wave of her hand. "He wouldnae ever been able tae pick between the two."

"Yeah, and Cat's a wild card. At this point, you probably wouldn't want her to cast her vote, Raph." Elizabeth pointed out.

"She loves Batman! And Joker and Harley Quinn are her favourites," Raphael argued.

"Aye," Sabrina agreed thoughtfully, "And there's no Loki in _Civil War_."

"True," Elizabeth agreed, "which is something of a travesty in my opinion."

"If ye and Cat had yer way, Loki would be in every Marvel movie," Sabrina pointed out with a teasing grin.

"Hell's yeah," Elizabeth said. "But if I had my way, Loki would have his own movie by now too," she affirmed before waving this topic away. "Point is, _Batman vs Superman_ was a train wreck. Seriously, they need to redeem themselves with _Suicide Squad_ or else they are going to lose their fan base and everyone will give up and accept that the closest they will see to live action DC comic book characters are shows on the CW."

Gwendolyn snickered. "I _like_ the superhero shows on the CW," she admitted softly.

He gave her a smile, feeling it was required as he had lost the entire thread of the conversation that was happening around him.

"Besides," Elizabeth continued, "Even if Cat did vote _Suicide Squad_, you would still be out-voted," she pointed out as she walked over to place the Blu-ray into the player.

A few moments later, Catherine and Michelangelo walked in. They placed the bowls and napkins by the popcorn machine and Michelangelo called out for anyone who wanted some popcorn to come and help themselves.

Michelangelo wore a beaming grin and Donatello found himself smiling at the fact that his brother obviously felt much better after confessing to Catherine and Donatello was thankful that Catherine was able to alleviate his brother's guilt.

Catherine glance over his way and caught his eye, giving him a wink.

Donatello's smile broadened as they shared a moment of acknowledgement of what had happened and Catherine being right as to the reasons for Michelangelo's behaviour towards Catherine for the past few weeks.

Gwendolyn pulled away from his arm and he looked over at her, an expression upon her face he wasn't able to decipher.

"Do you want some popcorn?" he asked her, concerned about Gwendolyn's abrupt change in demeanour, but unsure how to express this.

She looked over at him and shook her head negatively.

Donatello was about to settle back when he noticed that Leonardo had stalked up to Catherine, pulling her aside, his brother's temper appearing to be holding on by only a thin thread.

Not knowing what perceived wrong Leonardo was about to lay upon Catherine's shoulders, and worried that it either had to do with Gwendolyn or the second movie's title, he stood up.

"Excuse me," he said to Gwendolyn as he shuffled past her and walked past the row where Casey and Raphael were talking with great animation, completely oblivious as to what was going on by the front of the theatre.

Glancing around the theatre, he realized no one was paying any attention to Leonardo and Catherine.

Michelangelo was talking with Sabrina and Elizabeth. The women were refilling their wine glasses and Michelangelo was filling a bowl with some popcorn and taking out two pops from the mini fridge.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Donatello strode to where Leonardo looked to be lecturing Catherine about something, his voice almost too low to hear, but he was able to catch the words 'Raph' and 'suicide.'

About to come to Catherine's defence, he watched as Catherine, apparently having enough as her face turned icy with repressed anger, grabbed Leonardo by the ties of his mask and yanked him down so that she was able to talk directly into his ear.

Surprised by this reaction and Catherine's sudden fury, Leonardo was no less shocked as Catherine's words seemed to immediately cause Leonardo's demeanor to shift from anger to guilt.

Letting go of Leonardo's ties, he straightened and had the grace to look ashamed.

Donatello gave a rueful smile, realizing that Catherine did not need him to save her from Leonardo.

Catherine shot Leonardo a hard look and Leonardo gave a curt nod of acknowledgement and bowed to her in apology.

"Yo, Cat, head's up!" Michelangelo suddenly called out as he lobbed a can of pop at her.

Catherine quickly turned, reaching out for the can of pop, but it was as if she was uncoordinated for a moment, unable to get her hand around the can, dropping it to the ground.

Leonardo glared, picking the pop from the floor and handing it to Catherine as he hissed, "Mikey!"

Michelangelo placed his hands up in mock surrender. "She totally should have caught that!" he defended and Donatello agreed.

Catherine's reflexes and senses were incredibly honed which meant that she should have caught the flying can of pop, but instead, she had fumbled it.

Though to be fair, she had just been arguing with Leonardo so it was possible that she had been uncharacteristically distracted.

"Are we getting this show on the road or what?" Elizabeth asked as the lights dimmed and the projector was turned on.

Donatello made his way back to his seat while Elizabeth plopped herself down in front on the blanket, Sabrina beside her. Michelangelo sat down behind Sabina in a recliner in the first row, Leonardo taking the recliner beside Michelangelo; Elizabeth leaning back against Leonardo's legs.

"What was that about?" Gwendolyn asked in a soft voice.

Donatello sighed. He was not going to explain to Gwendolyn why Leonardo had been so angry. Maybe one day, if she was still by his side, he would share that small piece of hell with her, but not right now, and especially not with Raphael sitting in the row in front of him.

"I thought Leo was going to give Catherine a hard time about inviting you here," he told her, his words partially true.

Gwendolyn leaned in closer. "Why?" she wondered. "I mean, why is it such a big deal that I'm here?" she clarified.

"It's complicated," he replied.

Gwendolyn frowned in annoyance.

"It would take too long to explain," he offered instead, which seemed to mollify her only slightly.

"Does it have to do with the reason Leo won't let Mikey and Sabrina live together and why Liz can't move in with Leo?" she asked.

Donatello blinked in surprise at her words, wondering if this particular topic had been broached before they had arrived and realized that it must have been.

"It is definitely a component of that, yes," he told her.

"Will you explain it to me later?" she asked him, staring into his eyes as if she could read what was going on within his head, but couldn't.

"Yes," he told her, reaching out and clasping her hand in a comforting gesture before he realized how this action could be perceived when her eyes widened in shock.

Not knowing if he should let go of her hand or keep it and Gwendolyn apparently feeling just as unsure as he was, she stammered, "S-so what was Leo angry about?"

He tensed, something in his face prompting her to say with a sigh, "Let me guess, it's complicated."

Donatello let go of her hand and shifted his gaze to stare at the back of Raphael's head for a moment, his brother laughing at something Casey had said, his apparent scurrilous mood abated.

He glanced back at Gwendolyn, lowering his voice so that she had to lean in to hear him. "No, it isn't complicated," he explained. "It's off limits."

Gwendolyn's face registered disbelief and hurt at his words prompting him to explain, "It's about something that happened that still has the ability to wake me up in the middle of the night in terror," he admitted to her.

She seemed struck speechless by his words, opening her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Snapping her mouth closed, she nodded, reached out, and gave his hand a squeeze.

Looking down at her hand, he decided to keep it.

She gave him a shy smile, settled into the recliner, and allowed the subject to drop.

Catherine was the last to take her seat as she sat down beside Raphael just as the Marvel credit intro began to roll. She handed a bowl of popcorn to Raphael who gave her a smile.

Donatello could only see Catherine's face in profile, but although she smiled and the smile was completely genuine, there was something about it that bothered him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it before she turned her gaze to the screen and Donatello found himself staring at the back of her head.

He wondered if Catherine was still worried about Raphael and was searching her mate's eyes for signs of distress and finding none, settled back to enjoy the movie.

Content with this explanation, he looked over at Gwendolyn and gave her a smile, brushing the soft skin of her hand with his thumb. She blushed even more and she returned her attention to the screen causing Donatello's grin to widen.

Emboldened, he reached over and took Gwendolyn's chin between his finger and thumb, turning her head so that she had no choice but to look at him.

Face filled with bashful confusion she asked in a breathy whisper, "What are you doing?"

"What I'm supposed to while sitting in the back of a darkened movie theatre," he answered lowly as he leaned forward and claimed her lips in a bruising kiss.

* * *

**Go Donny! LOL**

**Hope you all enjoyed!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey everyone! Wow it has been waaaay toooooo long! I apologize. I was enjoying the now summer is over so I am again hibernating. So Please enjoy!**

**As always thank you to all of my lovely readers and reviewers and my amazing beta Marie Allen for betaing this chapter for me!**

* * *

Chapter 14

**Donatello** watched the credits roll, the movie finally finished and his family and friends beginning to stir and talk about the movie; Michelangelo's voice louder than all of the others.

Quickly reaching out and brushing Gwendolyn's cheek with his fingers, he watched as she jumped a little, startled. Her eyes turned to him in question and he smiled, dragging his fingers down until they reached her jaw, before gripping her chin and pulling her towards him.

He found that her lips had become a rather addictive thing and he couldn't help but claim them again, even if it was just briefly before the lights came back up and everyone opted for a quick intermission before they began the second movie.

Pulling away he asked, "Did you enjoy the movie?"

"It was so good!" she exclaimed as she beamed at him, her eyes shining with excitement, her cheeks flushed, and her lips slightly swollen from his kisses.

"Did you?" she asked.

"I did actually," he told her and this seemed to please her immensely.

Having long ago accepted that he had to shut off his brain and extend his disbelief at the scientific inaccuracies prevalent through-out most films, he had to admit that he had enjoyed the movie. Mostly because he had found himself intrigued by the personal interactions of the characters more so than any of the action sequences-though he had to admit, they were impressive as well- but completely ludicrous at the same time.

Donatello's attention was suddenly captured by Catherine, standing up, wavering on her feet and catching the chair in front of her before righting herself.

She smiled at Raphael when her mate told her that she was 'cut off', but Donatello felt his mind begin to spin as his eyes narrowed in speculation.

It was true that he had seen a glass of wine in Catherine's hands before the movie, but she had taken it with her when she had gone downstairs and she had returned with no glass of wine; requesting a can of pop from Michelangelo. It was possible that Catherine had overindulged before he and his brothers had arrived, but Donatello found this unlikely; any effects should have worn off after the two and a half hour running time as opposed to increasing.

Donatello watched Catherine leave the room, his brow still furrowed in worry as her steps had been sure and there was no more wobble in her gait.

Biting his lip, he made a decision.

Standing, he excused himself from Gwendolyn's side and followed Catherine from the room, intent on asking her why it was that she seemed to be hiding what looked like a medical problem from them.

Stepping into the hallway, he could see Catherine making her way down the stairs. He followed, halting her descent by catching her wrist in his grasp just as she reached the landing between the third and second floors.

Catherine looked up at him questioningly, surprise evident on her face.

"Donatello?" she wondered as he pulled her away from the stairs she was about to descend, and she allowed him this.

Donatello continued to hold her wrist in a light grip as his eyes raked her fox onesie clad body from top to bottom searching for any outward signs that she was ill.

Catherine looked a little pale and tired, but other than this, he could not detect any other signs of anything untoward.

He pulled her closer. "Why are you hiding your illness from everyone?" he asked, his voice low and angry. "And don't try to deny that there is something wrong with you because I saw you nearly collapse again just now after you stood up."

Catherine's eyes widened in shock, whether this was because of his anger or his accusation he wasn't sure, but she tried to take a step back and he wouldn't let her.

His eyes demanded an explanation and the threat that he would not release her unless she told him what was going on was clearly conveyed to her with his eyes as they had an unspoken battle of wills to which she finally capitulated by breaking eye contact and letting out a huff of air.

Catherine finally met his eyes once again. "I should have known that out of everyone, I wouldn't be able to hide anything from you, Donatello," she said with a self-depreciating smile.

Slightly mollified by her admission that she _had_ been hiding something, he felt a small fraction of the tension that was corded within his body relax, but he did not back away or let go of her wrist and instead slid his hand down until he was grasping her hand in his own, his expression softening.

It was times like this, her face free from the calm, collected mask she always wore, that he was struck by how young Catherine was. Her strength, intelligence and self-assurance always made him believe that she was by far older than her twenty-three years.

She was barely into adulthood. Even Gwendolyn was nearly four years her senior.

"Catherine," he prompted, hoping that whatever it was that she was about to disclose wasn't as bad as what his mind was wildly beginning to theorize.

If there was something wrong with her that was truly terrible or life threatening or even…fatal…

Donatello felt himself pale at the thought.

Losing Catherine would be…it was something his mind shied away from even as his heart twisted painfully in his chest.

His thoughts suddenly jumped to his red-masked brother.

If Raphael ever lost Catherine…

Raphael loved Catherine with a burning, unshakable, unwavering passion, and the only one who was able to keep Raphael sane and anchored on reality.

Catherine's face suddenly became serious, as if she was able to read his inner thoughts and was just as distressed by them as he was.

"It is nothing like what you are imagining, Donatello," she told him softly before giving him a gentle smile. "I'm okay, I promise," she soothed as she turned to him fully and took up his other hand so that his hands were in hers as she gave them a comforting squeeze. "I have low blood pressure, hence the dizzy spells," she informed him with a quirk of her lips, almost as if she was making fun of him for worrying so much.

He gave a slow blink of incomprehension, as if what she was telling him was not quite computing before he ran the data in his mind and gave a nod of understanding. Low blood pressure was not life threatening and it explained her sudden light-headedness when switching positions. It could be a symptom of an underlying ailment, but it was also a condition that was singular and benign.

"For how long?" he asked.

Catherine paused before answering, "A little over three months. And yes, I have gone to see a doctor."

Searching her eyes, he detected nothing that would indicate any serious illness and at this he felt his entire body finally relax. He gave her a contrite smile. "Sorry, Catherine, I just-"

"It's okay, Donatello, I understand," she interrupted before giving his hands a final squeeze and releasing them. "Now, you had best get back to your date before your girlfriend thinks you have the hots for me," she said with a wink that caused him to blush and stammer out a denial of both the term 'hots' and 'girlfriend' before realizing that he had probably just insulted her and Gwendolyn and tried to clumsily cover his mistake.

Catherine laughed, her face lighting up with pure, unadulterated joy and Donatello felt himself return her smile as the final vestiges of his worry evaporated beneath the sunshine smile that always had the ability to calm his fears and fill his heart with gentle warmth.

He paused a moment, studying Catherine, not really knowing what he was looking for or if he was just grasping at an ephemeral thought that was floating around in the back of his head.

Unable to figure out what it was that his mind was attempting to make him aware of, he turned serious for a moment. "Please take care of yourself," he told her, "and take it easy."

She quirked her lips at him, her expression one of pure innocence that he did not believe, "Yes, Doctor," she murmured and Donatello let a huff of resigned air out from his nostrils and gave his head a shake.

He took a step away and turned to go back up the stairs when he paused. "Does Raph know?" he asked her over his shoulder.

Catherine, who had also turned, intent on going down the stairs, paused mid-stride. "No," she answered with a shake of her head as she looked back up at him, the message in her eyes clear. She did not want him to say anything to Raphael.

He weighed his options before giving Catherine a nod that indicated that he would not divulge this information to his red-masked brother, Raphael had enough on his plate.

But…

Still holding Catherine's gaze with his own, he silently indicated that Raphael should not be kept in the dark for long, and that he would divulge this secret if she showed signs that her condition was not as harmless as she was making it out to be.

Catherine gave her own nod of understanding before an expression he could not identify crossed her face. "Thank you, Donatello, for keeping this between us." She paused for a moment before she added, "I'm sorry for always making you the keeper of so many secrets," she observed before she turned and walked down the steps towards the second floor.

Donatello watched her go as her words echoed around in his head. "Only yours," he murmured softly and by the pause in her step, Donatello knew that Catherine had heard him. She looked back up at him and they shared a moment of _something_. Donatello wasn't sure what it was, understanding perhaps, or an acknowledgement that out of all of his brothers, he, who was the very worst at lying and keeping things hidden, was the one who had always learned Catherine's secrets, and kept them.

All of them.

Walking up the steps, he tried to grab hold of the fleeting thought and feeling that had slipped through his mind earlier, but was unable to do so. He suspected that whatever it was that was floating around at the very edges of his consciousness was important and had to do with whatever it was that had passed between them.

Unable to determine what it was, he instead turned his mind back to Gwendolyn and the prospect of sitting in the dark and claiming addictive, light pink lips in a searing kiss that left him craving more.

* * *

**Gwendolyn** tried not to give into the temptation of hitting her forehead against the door-jam in frustration and disappointment; both emotions firmly aimed towards herself.

After watching Donatello leave a few moments after Catherine had made her way from the room, she found herself following.

She hated herself for doing this, and although she didn't want to be, 'that girl' the one who was insecure and couldn't get past the fact that her… Boyfriend? Potential boyfriend? Was still close with his ex, she found that she couldn't seem to help herself.

Which was how she found herself hiding in a bedroom after spying on Catherine and Donatello's conversation in the stairwell, hoping she could make it back to her seat without being caught.

The scene replayed itself within her mind, Donatello's hands clasped within Catherine's, their expressions serious as they stood close to each other, conversations held without talking and when they did speak, the words that were spoken were too soft to be overheard.

Gwendolyn had nearly jumped out of her skin when Donatello had suddenly become flustered and Catherine's laughter had burst forth, causing Gwendolyn to frown in confusion.

Whatever it was that had caused the sudden levity, the air between the two lightened and they parted ways. Donatello had paused and suddenly became serious again, asking her if 'Raph knew.' Catherine seemed to know what Donatello was referring to and her response was too quiet to hear, but her head shook in the negative. The two stared at each other as if having another silent conversation before something seemed to be settled between them and Catherine thanked Donatello for keeping something secret, the remainder of her words lost beneath the ever increasing din that was coming from the theatre room.

Donatello made no immediate reply, only watching as Catherine walked down the stairs, but he did offer an eventual response, but his words were again too soft to make out. Catherine seemed to have heard them and their eyes again met and Gwendolyn swore that there was something that passed between them and whatever it was, it was not constrained by the mere concept of _words_; it was too important.

At this, Gwendolyn realized that Donatello was heading up the stairs and she didn't have time to make it back to the theatre room without it looking suspicious. So she had ducked into the first room she had found, hiding behind the door as it had not been closed and waited until Donatello had passed by.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, she had steadied herself and continued to chastise herself for turning into a crazy, jealous stalker.

Letting out a huff of resignation as her mind focused upon her present predicament, she looked around the room she was in, trying to compose herself and not let what felt suspiciously like tears roll down her cheeks.

Donatello hadn't done anything wrong. But knowing Catherine and Donatello's history together and the way they seemed to have a connection and the ability to have entire conversations without words, especially ones about secrets, left her feeling more than a little uneasy and upset.

Stepping out of her hiding place, she decided to wait a few more minutes and then head back to her seat. If Donatello asked where she was, she would tell him that she had been in the bathroom.

Looking around the room she was in, she suddenly realized that she was in someone's bedroom.

Feeling intrusive, she made to leave when a white kitsune mask perched upon the dresser caught her attention.

Knowing she had to leave before she accidentally ran into Catherine, or anyone else for that matter, she found herself picking up the delicate, beautifully crafted mask anyway.

She had seen many different kinds of kitsune masks, especially at the cons she had attended, but this one seemed different somehow. It appeared to be made of a thin porcelain and rather than the traditional cat-like appearance that was typical of most Japanese kitsune masks, this one looked more like a real fox with large ears and beautifully painted designs done in red and black.

"Please don't drop my mask," a smooth voice said from over her shoulder and Gwendolyn felt herself jump, spinning to face the person who had snuck up on her; the delicate mask slipping through her fingers.

Stomach twisting and heart dropping, Gwendolyn tried to catch the mask before it shattered upon the hardwood floor, but she wasn't fast enough.

Quickly plucked from its fateful descent, the mask was scooped up by a pale, delicate hand.

Swallowing roughly, her stomach overflowing with heavy guilt mixed with trepidation, Gwendolyn's gaze followed the outstretched hand to its owner; the very last person she wanted to see at the moment.

Catherine's hood had fallen back revealing her beautiful face and onyx hair, which fell around her shoulders in luxurious waves.

There was a huge part of Gwendolyn that really wished she could hate the woman who stood before her, but she found that she couldn't and she wasn't quite sure why.

Catherine's expression was one of smiling openness, as if Gwendolyn hadn't just been caught snooping in someone's bedroom.

"S-sorry. I-I-" she began to stammer, not even able to come up with a suitable excuse for being in the bedroom.

"I apologize," Catherine interrupted, her eyes filled with understanding and a hint of mirth. "I shouldn't have come up upon you like that."

Gwendolyn stared at the younger woman slightly dumbfounded. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know this was your room," she apologized contritely hoping Catherine would step back and out of the way, allowing her to escape to the safety of the theatre room.

"It isn't my room, but I use it every now and then," Catherine acknowledged but made no movement to allow Gwendolyn out of the bedroom."I'm glad the mask came to no harm, it is very old," she said as she placed the mask over her face before pulling it away and settling it upon her head, securing it with the red ribbons that hung down from the sides.

Elizabeth's words of it being 'apropos' for Catherine to be dressed as a fox suddenly came back to her and Gwendolyn found herself staring at Catherine, wondering if she was a kitsune, before shaking the thought off as being completely ridiculous.

Or was it?

"Would you like to talk about it?" Catherine queried and Gwendolyn wondered if the woman before her could read her mind.

About to emphatically shake her head back and forth because she was not going to ask Catherine if she was a shape-shifting Japanese fox demon, she paused and instead carefully asked, "About what?"

Catherine tipped her head to the side, studying her and Gwendolyn felt herself unable to look away from the intuitive, questioning gaze that seemed to see so very much.

Gwendolyn swallowed and found herself taking a nervous step back.

Straightening her head, Catherine gave one more searching look before apparently settling upon a line of thought because she answered, "It's not going to be easy."

Frowning in confusion, Gwendolyn asked, "What's not going to be easy?"

"A relationship with Donatello," Catherine stated bluntly and Gwendolyn felt herself momentarily caught off guard. When her mind finally caught up with Catherine's train of thought,she blushed hotly in embarrassment before suddenly becoming suspicious and defensive.

Did Catherine think to keep Donatello on the line as a backup again should anything happen between her and Raphael?

Anger stiffened her posture and she found herself balling her fists. "My relationship with him, if any, is none of your business," Gwendolyn ground out angrily. "Just because you and Donny have history, doesn't mean-"

"It is very much my business," Catherine's soft words cut through her own and Gwendolyn felt a shiver of unease slide down her spine.

Catherine was no longer smiling, nor was her face full of curiosity or humour. It was carved from hard marble- blank, cold, and impenetrable and Gwendolyn wondered how this young woman, dressed in a fox onsie with a mask perched upon her head, could present such a dangerous and threatening figure.

"I like you, Gwendolyn, but when it comes to Donatello's heart, I am fiercely protective of it," she stated emphatically.

Gwendolyn opened her mouth, about to snarkily point out that Catherine had done enough damage to that organ herself and had no right to lecture her, but she wasn't able to get her words out before Catherine continued.

"Dating the brothers is not easy," she informed her icily, almost daring her to voice her reply and Gwendolyn found that she wasn't that brave. "You cannot go on dates in public or introduce him to your friends or family. You will constantly have to balance and walk the line between two worlds and it is _hard_," Catherine warned an edge to her voice as if expecting Gwendolyn to fight back at her words and deny them, and it was so tempting to do so, but she quickly reigned in her temper, acknowledging that Catherine had a point and was also speaking from _experience_.

Snapping her mouth closed, she allowed Catherine's point to sink in.

Gwendolyn wasn't dating Donatello, at least not officially yet, and yes she had already thought about the fact that she and Donatello, if they wanted to go somewhere on a date, couldn't. And as Donatello refused to take her to the mysterious location where he lived, they would be constrained to only going to her apartment. She had friends but none that were overly close, the closest being Sabrina and now Elizabeth, and her parents and siblings were thousands of miles away, so she would not have to worry about them asking her to bring her boyfriend over for Thanksgiving dinner or anything.

It was a gloomy thought, but she had already mulled these thoughts over in her mind and accepted them.

"You may think that you are okay with this," Catherine continued, her words losing their harsh edge, as Gwendolyn stared at Catherine, who seemed to have plucked her thoughts right from her mind and voiced an observation from them. "But over time, it wears a little at your heart, each and every day, and I do not wish for you to fall in love with him only to resent him later."

Gwendolyn felt the blood rush to her cheeks again. She_ liked _Donatello, but she hadn't even had a real _date _with the guy and Catherine was talking to her about _love_?

"Listen-" she began but Catherine wasn't finished yet.

"You _heard_ Elizabeth," Catherine began, pausing as if to ascertain she had Gwendolyn's complete and total attention. Gwendolyn gave a huff of annoyance and hated herself a little but she did not interrupt. "She and Leonardo are having problems with moving forward in their relationship and they have been together for nearly a year. Sabrina and Michelangelo have hit this same problem and everything is going to come to a rather spectacular head unless they can figure it out."

Gwendolyn studied Catherine. "So what makes you and Raph so special?" she wondered harshly, her anger still sparking across her skin and causing her to take one step closer to Catherine.

Catherine seemed to give the question more thought than Gwendolyn thought it warranted before she finally answered, "I was willing to sacrifice _everything_; hurt, abandon, and betray those I loved most," Catherine finished, her voice cold and free of any emotional inflection.

"I don't even know what to say to that," Gwendolyn said, the words slipping from her mouth before she was even able to process them.

Catherine smirked. "I suppose not," she replied before her expression turned serious again. "My point is that you and Donatello may or may not work out, and that is fine, but do not go searching for obstacles and problems to sabotage your relationship with; you already have enough of those to contend with already."

With this confusing statement, one which Gwendolyn was positive contained a pointed bard of reproach, the younger woman turned, intent on leaving the room.

"What?" Gwendolyn asked defensively, causing Catherine to pause.

"They say that no one ever hears anything good of themselves while eavesdropping," Catherine said over her shoulder, pinning Gwendolyn to the spot with her intense gaze and Gwendolyn found the blood drain from her face even as she felt the overwhelming need to sink into the floor and disappear forever. "My secrets are my own to share or keep, others are not mine to divulge, and a few you are not ready to hear yet."

Gwendolyn flinched and winced at Catherine's stern tone; guilt and shame nearly choking her."I'm sorry," she hurriedly apologized, not knowing how to defend herself when she knew her actions were wrong. "I didn't mean-"

Catherine's eyes slew her on the spot. "Don't insult my intelligence or demean your own," she bit out at Gwendolyn's attempt to lie to cover her ass and not seem like a possessive, crazy, jealous, suspicious kind of woman.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to compete against you," she blurted out.

Catherine stared at her a moment and Gwendolyn had no idea what the younger woman was thinking.

"There is no competition, Gwendolyn," Catherine stated bluntly. "Don't let Raphael's antics get into your head. If you want to ask me a question, or several questions, please just do so. I cannot guarantee that I will or will be able to answer them, but I find it much easier to be direct rather than dancing around topics and engaging in sweet pleasantries when there are issues that need to be addressed. I don't have the time or the patience to be playing games."

"Ummm…" Gwendolyn answered stupidly, feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable. Everything that she wanted to ask Catherine seemed either too personal: why did you dump Donny and go back to Raph and are you_ really_ over Donny or are you just keeping his hopes up? Or too stupid: are you a kitsune, their queen or both? Awkwardly she finally replied,"Okay."

Catherine gave a nod and opened her mouth to say something, but whatever it was, it was lost as Elizabeth bounded past the door, slid to a stop, backtracked and grabbed Catherine by her arms. "Here you are. We are all waiting- Oh Gwen's here too. Good. You guys are taking forever. Come on, we've got another movie to watch!"

Their conversation at an end, Gwendolyn followed the two sisters out of the room and taking her seat beside Donatello, she felt emotionally drained andunsure of everything.

Donatello looked over at her, his gaze questioning, before she explained that she had gotten 'a little lost,' which wasn't too far from the truth. Granted, it was more of an emotional nature than a physical one, but staring into Donatello's eyes, his attention firmly set upon herself and not straying even once in Catherine's direction, she felt herself reassured of Donatello's interest and gave him a shy smile.

Donatello grinned, the lights dimming as he gave her a quick kiss and Gwendolyn dimly wondered why it was that Donatello seemed so much different, more confident and forward, when the lights went out.

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**Hope everyone enjoyed and yes, we need to get to more Gwen/Donny goodness, and we will, don't you worryXD**


	15. Chapter 15

**I'm alive! LOL I apologize to everyone, life has kept me occupied and I have been too busy to update. I don't think things will slow down until the new year truthfully but I will still try to post some chapters for this story as well as my Zootopia fic.**

**I thank you all for your patience and I hope that you all enjoy this next chapter.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed and as always thank you to my lovely beta Mary Allen for reading this chapter for me.**

**And now, please enjoy!**

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Chapter 15

**Gwendolyn** surveyed her apartment, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip as she took a deep breath and dragged her damp palms across her jeans.

She was nervous; oddly so.

Looking over at the clock, she knew that Donatello would be arriving soon and she was trying to make things perfect for their date.

Their first date.

At least, if you didn't count the coffee date or the movie date, it was the first time they were going to be completely alone together without any of his family or friends (she didn't count the coffee date because Catherine had been around, even after she had left them), and she wasn't sure what he would be expecting.

Hell, she wasn't sure what_ she_ was expecting.

Granted, she hadn't been on a date in a while and Donatello's lack of dating made her feel a little better, but she truthfully hated the insecurity that came with the beginnings of a brand new relationship.

If you could call what she and Donatello had a relationship…

She wasn't sure what they were.

Neither of them had objected when Mikey had called her 'Donny's girlfriend' but they hadn't really clarified if she was actually his girlfriend or not.

They hadn't exactly had time for the 'relationship talk' since this was the first time they were going to be in each other's company since the movie night, and she refused to have that particular conversation by text.

Trying to pull herself together, she looked over at her clock again.

She had offered to cook Donatello a maritime dinner and he had agreed. She had set up a folding work table, threw a tablecloth over it, and scrounged up two mismatched chairs. Two candles had been bought for the occasion and were placed in the center.

Looking at the candles, she changed her mind. Jigg's dinner was just not that kind of dinner, and the candles suddenly felt too cheesy or like she was trying too hard.

Removing the candles she turned her attention back to the kitchen.

Dinner was sitting on the stove, warm and ready and she could only hope that Donatello liked it. There were many dishes she could have chosen, a more romantic lobster dish could have been one of them, but she wasn't sure if Donatello liked seafood, (she could have asked), but lobster was something that wasn't quite as near and dear to her heart as some of the other dishes that were only cooked in Newfoundland and so she had gone with a hearty staple: Jiggs dinner. It was an uncomplicated dish made up of salt beef, potatoes, turnips, carrots, cabbage and pease pudding. Then there was figgy duff on the side. It was too bad she couldn't get the pickled mustard beets, but she had managed a decent gravy and knew Donatello wouldn't know to complain about the lack of beets.

Granted, she knew that her Jiggs dinner wasn't going to be as good as what her grandma made, but truthfully, no one's was.

A tap upon her living room window caused her to nearly jump out of her skin. A shadowy shape loomed outside on the fire escape; darker black against the fading light of the day.

She caught a flash of amethyst that quelled her startled heart. Striding to the window, she unlocked it and slid up the glass. "What are you doing out there?" she hissed lowly.

Donatello shifted from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable before she motioned for him to come into her apartment.

"It's easier for me if I come in this way," he explained softly. "I look too suspicious and garner too much attention," he added.

In her opinion, she didn't think that someone wearing a long coat, toque, scarf and gloves would look out of place walking down the hallways of her apartment building in November, but her mind quickly slid what it would be like for him to be stuck in the elevator with someone, or walking past an overprotective, curious tenant and what it would be like when the weather warmed up.

"Right," she offered awkwardly, feeling stupid for not thinking about this earlier.

Donatello shrugged as he turned and shut the window to keep out the cool air before removing his scarf and toque.

She quickly moved forward, offering to take the winter items and his coat that he was currently in the process of removing.

Taking the clothes, she placed them in her front closet and tried to figure out what to say to break the awkward silence that had fallen between them.

Thankfully, Donatello did this before she was able to offer anything into the quiet of the room when he said, "It smells good in here."

Closing the closet door, she turned and thanked him. "It's called Jigg's dinner. I hope you like it. It's one of my favourites," she said as she walked over to the stove and took the pot off of it, setting it on the counter.

"It's not fancy," she warned, "but it's hearty. And I even made Figgy duff as well, because Jigg's dinner wouldn't be the same without it."

"Figgy…?" Donatello's voice trailed off in surprise. "That's a real thing?"

Gwendolyn laughed, some of the uncomfortable tension that had filled the air dissipating as she began separating everything into its own dish. Jigg's dinner was much like a pot-roast, everything was cooked in the same pot. Filling each plate with the beef, potatoes, turnips, carrots, cabbage, pease pudding and the Figgy duff, she set the dishes upon the table.

She motioned for him to sit and he did so, pulling out the chair and sitting down, waiting politely until she settled herself.

"I think I recognize everything," Donatello began, staring at his plate, "but what is this?" he asked pointing to the pease pudding. She answered him and he again seemed struck by her answer. "Like the nursery rhyme?" he asked.

"Yes, like the nursery rhyme," she said with a nod as she took her first bite of the pudding and smiled contentedly.

As she chewed, she watched her dining companion., who began with the beef, which was probably the most familiar item.

"Oh," she said as an afterthought as she stood. "Did you want something to drink? Wine? Pop? Water? Juice? Beer?" she was starting to sound a little desperate as she began listing off all of the beverages she could think of and hoped he didn't say beer because she didn't have any and she had no idea why she had offered it, but she had.

"Water is fine," Donatello said as she surreptitiously watched him poke at the pease pudding before finally tasting it.

She could tell right away that he wasn't a fan, but knew it was an acquired taste, so she didn't take offence as she set the water down before him and he gratefully drank it.

Sitting back down, she said, "You don't have to eat it if you don't like it."

Donatello's eyes widened in surprise and it looked as if he was going to give a denial of her observation before a blush crossed his cheeks and she laughed.

"I know it isn't for everyone," she said as she took another bite, this time of turnip, and she wondered, "What's your favourite food?"

"Pizza," Donatello answered as he finished off his beef and started in on the potatoes.

"What kind?" she asked.

"Any," he replied before he seemed to realize he wasn't offering anything to the conversation. "I mean…I'm not picky. I pretty much eat whatever is placed at my elbow or if I am dragged to the kitchen to eat."

"So you don't cook?" she asked, curious about what his life was like.

Donatello shook his head. "I've truthfully never really tried. I'm more the one who fixes everything. Mikey is usualy on cooking duty, mostly because he is the only one who _can_ cook. Leo can burn water and Raph…" Donatello gave a melodramatic shudder, "you don't want to eat Raph's cooking. As for me…I forget to eat sometimes."

"You forget to eat?" she asked in surprise.

Donatello looked embarrassed before he answered, "If I am chasing a theory or working on something, I can lose track of time."

She looked at him with incredulity, not being able to imagine being so focused and lost in something that she forgot to eat. Granted, she herself had experience with not eating perhaps _properly_, grabbing quick snacks while working on her designs and costumes, but she at least ate and she was always conscious of the time and day, mostly because she had deadlines.

She wondered briefly what it would be like to not actually have a job and time to just do whatever it was that she wanted, but swept this aside as she noted that it wasn't as if Donatello had a choice.

"Wow," she said in stunned accents.

"But my family is fairly good at making sure I don't starve," he assured with a wry smile as he sat back in his chair. "And if I do get hungry I usually wander into the kitchen and find my dinner in the fridge or I make myself a sandwich. Though," Donatello seemed to think on something, "with Catherine around, she expects us to be at the table to eat whatever it is she has cooked; be it breakfast, lunch or dinner."

"Catherine cooks?" she asked trying not to feel a little disheartened that the younger woman knew her way around the kitchen. _She probably bakes pies too… From scratch_, she thought bitterly.

"Yeah, with Mikey out of the lair so much with Sabrina, it's the safer option," he chuckled. "And Liz pitches in as well if she is around." Donatello fell into an abstracted silence for a moment before he said, "But…actually, everyone seems to be around more than they usually are. And it's nice having Catherine and Raph back home."

Gwendolyn noted that although he seemed glad of this situation, there was a hint of melancholy in his voice. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask how he was able to forgive Raphael and Catherine for betraying him, but she bit back on the words. This was their first real date and she was not going to talk about his ex/sister-in-law. "I'm sure it is," she answered politely instead, hoping that she could find a way to switch topics.

Donatello must have heard something in her voice that he misinterpreted because he was prompted to explain, "I just…never thought that my family would drift apart in the way that they have."

A little surprised by his words, she thought about them a moment. "That's kinda what happens," she said knowing all too well the distance that could be placed between family members. "You grow up, you move out, have your own lives, friendships, interests, relationships, kids, and spouses. I only see my family at Christmas."

Donatello looked startled before his expression turned to one of guilt, as if had broached a subject that might be painful or touchy for her.

She waved off his concern. "Don't get me wrong, I love my family. I love my parents and my sister and brother and their families and I wish I could see them more, because we are close, but everyone moves forward and suddenly you blink and it's been a year. I miss them, but I think I only saw my siblings a few more times a year than I do now." She shook her head. "I travel quite a bit for my work and my brother and sister have five kids between the two of them who are all involved in sports and in school and my siblings have their jobs and we were always too busy to get together. But when I see them, it's like no time has passed at all except my nieces and nephews have gotten taller," she said with a chuckle. "I do miss my parents though, especially my mom, but I Skype and call and check out Facebook, so it's not too bad," she explained with a smile. "But that's life."

"True," Donatello offered slowly. "But it's a human life," he pointed out softly, his face set into sombre lines.

She blinked, her mind skidding to a halt for a moment before she frowned in confusion.

He smiled a little at her stupefied expression before he grew serious again. "My family is…" he paused as if searching for the right word, "unique," he said with a slight shrug before he continued. "And small. We lost our father just over three years ago and it became that much smaller. We only have us. We are ninja, we live in the shadows and our Master, our father, tasked us with keeping this city safe, and we still do, but even though the dangers and the enemies we faced have lessened over the years we never thought that our lives would be safe enough for anyone to get close to us. I can't even count the number of times April and Casey nearly lost their lives because of us."

Donatello seemed to sink into a further gloom and Gwendolyn could think of nothing comforting or helpful to say, except a soft, 'I'm sorry,' to the revelation that they had a father who had passed away, before falling into mute uncertainty as the moment of heavy silence stretched between them.

Roused from his inner musings, Donatello finally spoke again. "But besides this, we never thought that a human woman would ever be able to look at any of us without fear or revulsion. We eventually met April and she got to know us and accepted us, but she only looked upon us in friendship." Donatello's face lightened and a wry smile pulled at his lips, his eyes crinkling in mirth. "We had all resigned ourselves to our continued lonely existence in the shadows until Leo stumbled upon a group of larpers and a fairy queen and became a member of her royal guard for the night. Meeting Catherine changed our lives completely." Donatello smiled broadly at this and Gwendolyn had to admit that any jealousy she had regarding Catherine and Donatello's past relationship vanished under the gratefulness she felt towards the fact that Catherine had been able to put that smile upon Donatello's face; if only briefly.

"Catherine and Liz came into our lives," Donatello continued, "but it was a shaky, fragile, tenuous connection, one that Leo attempted to sever on more than one occasion. He feared for their safety, but Catherine," Donatello shook his head, his voice softening in remembrance, "she refused any and all attempts made by Leo to keep us apart."

Gwendolyn gazed down at her hands, unable to look into Donatello's eyes as he remembered that the woman who had fought so hard for them to be together, had later run off with and married his brother.

"And because of Catherine," Donatello continued in a surprisingly even voice, "Mikey and Sabrina were finally able to be together and Leo and Liz fell in love and our family is so much bigger now than when it started and I couldn't be happier for my brothers. But like I said, everyone has been so busy with their own lives and…. I've been talking too much. I'm sorry," he apologized sheepishly.

Gwendolyn looked up at this, his expression embarrassed, and Gwendolyn shook her head. "It's nice to hear you talk about your family," she told him truthfully.

Donatello gave a grateful smile and she found herself returning it as she tried to think of something to say as a thought struck her. "I hope you didn't get into too much trouble over me being at the movie night," she said worry filling her voice.

After the movie, Gwendolyn had spent the night in one of the spare bedrooms, not having more than a few moments to talk with Donatello before he was whisked away with his friends, his other brothers, and -to Elizabeth's annoyance- Catherine.

Donatello shook his head, a merry twinkle forming in his eyes. "I am pretty sure Catherine had a quiet word with Leo after we got home. All I got from him was an annoyed look before I went to bed. Leo doesn't do well with change…or surprises."

"That's good," she answered before she amended, "Not the part about Leo not being good with changes or surprises, but that you didn't get in trouble."

Donatello smiled brightly. "I inferred that, and I agree. Sitting through another one of Leo's lectures on 'keeping in the shadows' and 'not letting anyone into our lives because it could be dangerous for them and for us,' would be painfully redundant, specious, and incredibly tedious. Though…in all honesty, Leo has come a long way. Liz has been really good for him, loosened him up a little, but sometimes he slips back into his old 'I am the leader of this clan' ways."

Gwendolyn gave a weak smile in response to Donatello's words as she recalled Elizabeth's worry that her relationship with Leonardo may be over unless he allowed her to move in with him or vice versa. Not wanting to voice these thoughts out loud as she knew that it was none of her business, she was still curious about their family dynamic as both Sabrina and Elizabeth had acted like Leonardo's word was law. "Does Leo have that much say in your family?" she wondered.

He seemed to think on this question. "Yes and no." he admitted. "Leo's our leader, he has been since we were teenagers. Master Splinter left him in charge before he died, which means that what Leo says pretty much goes. He can be incredibly controlling, but it is only because he takes so much upon himself and has a strong sense of honour and responsibility."

Donatello seemed to fall into a little bit of abstraction, pausing in thought and twirling his fork before he used it to spear another morsel of food from his plate and continued talking. "If Leo told me I wasn't able to see you anymore, I would have a hard time disobeying him, even though technically there isn't much he can really do to stop me. I would still feel compelled to obey him because he is my leader and older brother. He's stubborn and has a tendency to believe he is always right, and even though, like I said, Leo has tried to soften his stance on many of his rules and opinions, he still strongly thinks that he is the one who knows what is best for all of us."

She digested this information, not quite able to wrap her mind around the autocracy of their family structure, but knowing that it was because of how he had been raised as well as the fact that though it was strange to accept that there was a ninja clan in New York, it was never-the-less exactly what he was part of.

"Do you think Leo would order such a thing?" she asked and was surprised to notice how much her heart twisted at the thought and how hurt she would be if he answered in the affirmative.

Donatello gave a slight smile as he shook his head. "I know Leo seems a little stiff and controlling, but he isn't unreasonable. Unless you mean to do harm to me and, or my family…" his words trailed off not quite in question but she felt it was one anyway and shook her head in denial, "then he would only order such a thing if he thought your life was in danger as a result of knowing us."

Gwendolyn frowned. Donatello's words made sense, but… "What about Catherine, Elizabeth, and Sabrina?" she asked, truly curious and a little on the defensive at the thought that she could be so easily thrown from Donatello's life (even though technically they hadn't even discussed their current relationship status) but not the other women who were in his brothers' lives. And besides, shouldn't she get a say in the matter?

Donatello's smile dropped from his lips and he tensed, his expression closing itself off as if he was withdrawing from her and she instantly regretted her question, even though it was completely valid.

"That's…complicated," Donatello hedged uneasily. "Leo and Mikey would let Liz and Sabrina go if their lives were in danger, and it isn't as if Raph wouldn't be willing to do the same, but…Catherine's different." Donatello wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Why is she different?" Gwendolyn could feel her stomach knotting, her appetite waning.

Donatello only shook his head, his disinclination of answering clear before he replied, "It's just a hypothetical example to illustrate a family dynamic," Donatello said dismissively. "Even if Leo tired to push Liz, Sabrina, you or anyone else from our lives because of a perceived threat, he would have to go through Catherine first, and that's not something he's able to do," he said firmly. "And besides," he added, his tone holding a grim note, "if Catherine caught wind of anyone who had any intentions of harming us…" Donatello looked her straight in the eye. "I have no doubt that they would regret such an action."

Gwendolyn felt a chill run down her spine. Donatello's tone of voice was deadly serious and her mind leapt back to when she had spoke to Catherine the night of the movie, when the younger woman had gone from amused and welcoming to harsh and almost threatening.

"Uh…" she began awkwardly, "Good to know."

Donatello smiled at her as if he was relieved about something, or maybe the conversation had made him feel better because the gloom that had settled over him had lifted and he took a bite of the Figgy duff, his expression freezing in what might have been disgust or delight, it was hard to tell, but he chewed and swallowed, his facial expression shifting to contemplative curiosity before he took another bite.

"This is good," he said as he began to devour the rest of the Figgy duff that was on his plate.

"Better than pizza?" she quipped, feeling a bloom of pleasure suffuse her body at the fact that he really enjoyed at least a portion of the dinner she had prepared.

Donatello paused, his fork halfway to his mouth before he answered, "No, but it's close," he admitted a slight blush suffusing his cheeks, as if he was worried he had offended her, but truthfully, she appreciated his honesty.

She laughed and he smiled in relief.

Finishing up their dinner, he helped her with dishes, drying them as she washed.

"Are those your new costumes?" Donatello wondered as he handed her the last plate to put away, their chore done mostly in silence; Gwendolyn concentrating on her task and unable to find a topic of discussion.

Looking over at her work station, she nodded as she closed the cupboard and walked over to the piles of fabric he had noticed.

"Ever since my costumes were featured in the _Alice in wonderland _event at Halloween, I have been getting orders for costumes for next year, as well as a few cosplay requests. At the moment I am trying to decide if I will be able to hit any of the smaller cons coming up next year. I would really like to showcase my work, but it's very expensive traveling all over the country and I think I really need to up my game if I am going to garner any sort of interest or win any of the contests."

Donatello gave a slow nod but didn't really say anything, so she explained further.

"There are some amazing cosplayers and designers out there and it is really hard to get noticed."

"What do you get if you win these contests?" Donatello asked as he fingered a roll of red velvet.

"You can win money, but more importantly, you can attract clients. And if I want to be successful and really get my name out there, I need the exposure." She sighed. "I need to pay my rent somehow." She paused in thought for a moment. "But truthfully, I'm just glad I can do something I love." She smiled.

Donatello gave a warm smile in return before looking over at the bolts of fabrics she had leaning against the wall.

"You have a lot of different fabrics," Donatello observed.

Gwendolyn nodded her head. "Making a costume requires many different fabrics," she explained as she brushed her hand across a swath of white satin. "The colour and texture is very important as is the type of fabric. Each hangs differently and looks different, has different sheens and purposes to give the outfits different shapes and function." She gave a wry smile. "Price is also a consideration. The more expensive the fabric, the more expensive the costume."

"So the costumes you made for us were expensive?" Donatello wondered.

"Very. Especially the one Catherine wore. But the Raven wanted the costumes to be opulent and rich and not look like the cheap costumes you can buy off the rack at costume shops." Gwendolyn turned her attention back to Donatello as a thought stuck her. "I wonder if the Raven was expecting you and your brothers?"

"What do you mean?" Donatello asked carefully.

"Um, well…I mean…" she stammered uncomfortably. "I know that the characters you guys were playing weren't in the graphic novel…so I guess…I was just wondering what kind of, um…specifications, the Raven was looking for, that's all…" she trailed off uncomfortably as Donatello's expression changed to one of shuttered blankness.

"The…specifications were probably…inhuman," Donatello replied carefully and Gwendolyn wasn't sure if she had hurt his feelings or insulted him somehow.

Biting her lip she apologized, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No I-" Donatello began but she cut him off.

"I just was thinking that….I wonder if the Raven was watching, you know, somewhere in that crowd and if he….if he liked everything, that's all."

Donatello studied her intently. "Maybe," he finally replied. "But I think the Raven wouldn't have had any complaints about your costumes."

"I got a very nice email from his assistant thanking me for my efforts and a pretty good bonus," she said with a wide smile, grateful for the extra cash as any cosplay outfit she was going to create for herself would be quite expensive to make and having extra money to fund her efforts was always a good thing.

Donatello looked across her worktable at the patterns she had laid out. "So you are working on something right now?" he asked curiously.

She nodded and proceeded to explain that she was making three gothic medieval gowns as well as an elaborate costume for a friend who wanted to go to a con dressed as Ahri from _League of Legends_. She could only be thankful that she wasn't responsible for the wig or the tails only the kimono and explained how she began her process with studying the artwork and then creating a pattern and choosing the fabrics. By the time she began explaining seam allowances and darting she stammered to a halt when she recognized the glazed expression of information overload coupled with disinterest and confusion that had fallen across Donatello's face.

She gave a strained smile. "Yeah…sorry," she apologized.

Donatello blinked at her as if coming out of a trance. "It's okay," he assured her. "I can see that you obviously are very…passionate about what you do."

Gwendolyn laughed self-consciously. "Yeah, I really am. Not a lot of people can say that they love their job, but I really love mine. I just hope that I can keep doing what I am doing. It's hard being self-employed. Some perks, like making my own schedule, but definitely a lot of risk and also some lean times when there aren't any clients or when said clients stiff you and you have no choice but to try to sell your creations online," she explained with a shrug.

Donatello nodded in understanding. "Much like Liz and Sabrina."

"Yeah, exactly," she replied, feeling as if she had exhausted the subject but unsure of what else to say as they lapsed into silence.

"So…um…" Donatello said as he rocked back on his heels. "What now?" he wondered a little uncomfortably.

"Uh…" she began not having thought past dinner as she had truthfully believed that after their romantic meal, (which had turned out to be less than romantic), there wouldn't be much talking involved as they would be possibly enjoying some activities that involved a lot of touching and preferably her lips pressed against his, but it wasn't as if she was going to blurt this out and she was not about to attempt to seduce him because that was something way beyond her abilities and her comfort zone. "Movie?" she questioned uncertainly.

He gave a shrug and she led him over to her rather sparse movie collection that had more anime series than actual movies and they found that there wasn't really anything in her collection that interested him, though he had politely informed her that she could pick any movie she wanted.

She silently wished she had some kind of romance movie, but the closest thing she had was Guardians of the Galaxy.

Taking the movie over to the Blu-Ray player, she popped it into the tray and turned on the TV.

"Do you want anything to drink?" she asked politely.

Donatello shook his head and she settled herself on her couch, waiting for him to join her and hoping that their date would run a little more smoothly than it had so far.

* * *

**Donatello** paused before settling himself beside Gwendolyn. He knew that watching a movie with her was no different than what they had done the other night, but tonight he couldn't help feeling unusually apprehensive.

Surrounded by his family and friends, he had felt comfortable and even a little daring, able to –under the cover of the darkened theatre room- unabashedly kiss Gwendolyn. But here in her apartment, with no one else around, he suddenly found himself to be shy and uncertain, mostly because he didn't really know what was expected of him.

He wasn't sure if, because of his physical attentions, Gwendolyn was expecting more or if she believed that he wished to take things with her even further, and though that was a possibility in the future -if things progressed with their relationship- he could admit that he wasn't there yet. Not even close.

Settling beside her, he tried to relax even though he was nervous.

The only relationships he had to base his experiences on were his siblings' and April and Casey's. But in all of the above instances, they had all been friends before they had become couples. Although…it was true that Catherine and Raphael weren't exactly on what could be called 'friendly' terms, they had at least known each other for a while. The same went for Leonardo and Elizabeth and Casey and April. The closest relationship that came to a typical 'dating a stranger' was between Michelangelo and Sabrina, and even they had begun as something close to friends. Michelangelo had begun to see Sabrina by hanging out with her and Elizabeth and hadn't gone out on any actual dates until after Catherine and Elizabeth had left to go back to Canada and hadn't become serious until Catherine had come back and abducted Raphael.

This meant that Donatello had no real reference point for comparison and he was feeling a little out of his depth at the moment.

He wanted to ask Gwendolyn what they were doing and if she was actually his girlfriend or not as he hadn't protested when Michelangelo had said that she was and she hadn't said she wasn't but he felt as if he should ask her in some way because he was pretty sure this was how it worked and he shouldn't just assume something like that, but he was too shy to bring it up and she hadn't brought it up either, so he was unsure of how to proceed.

Thinking back on it, he knew he should have gotten Catherine's opinion before he had gone on this date, but she had been out with Raphael, taking Beowulf for a walk, and he wasn't about to ask Elizabeth for any advice, or his brothers for that matter, so he had left the lair with no idea what he was really walking into.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting or what he wanted, but the easy camaraderie and connection he had felt the first time they had had coffee together and even the night of the movie seemed to be missing and the whole night felt awkward and stilted.

Unfortunately, he wasn't sure how to fix it, because he felt as if all of his insecurities and lack of knowledge were to blame.

Gwendolyn had been nothing but amazing, cooking him dinner and trying to make him feel comfortable, but he could almost feel himself pulling away as the night wore on because his mind was focused on trying to figure out why he had been drawn to this woman that he was beginning to fear he had nothing in common with.

But then again, wasn't the point of dating to get to know the other person? He knew he liked her, he was attracted to her and he enjoyed the taste of her lips and how kissing her made him feel, but he needed to know if what he felt went deeper than that.

He liked her passion and the way her eyes shone when she talked about her costumes, but he didn't have much of an interest in it himself and couldn't really relate to it, even though he understood that she enjoyed creating and basically building things, just as he did, but it felt different somehow.

Gwendolyn held the control in her hand setting the movie up and he found himself asking, "Can we take things slow?"

He was surprised by his words, mostly because he hadn't thought he would be brave enough to utter them, but he found himself relieved that he had.

Gwendolyn looked over at him, her expression one of shock and brief uncertainty before she shifted on the couch so that she could face him.

Having noted the look of misgiving that had flashed across her face, he hastened to explain. "I've just…I've never done this before," he stated, feeling the blush rise up in his cheeks. "The only experience I've had with this kind of relationship is of a friend who becomes more than that, but I think we skipped that part and I don't really know how any of this is supposed to work," he offered truthfully.

Gwendolyn bit her lip and gave a slight nod. "Okay," she replied before adding. "I understand."

Donatello felt himself let out a breath in relief, but Gwendolyn looked troubled and uncertain as she shifted her attention to her hands which still held the controller.

He knew he wasn't as attuned to social cues as his brothers were, but he could sense that Gwendolyn had not taken his words very well.

Shifting closer, he reached out, gently taking her chin between his fingers and turning her head to meet his gaze.

Her eyes were wide, startled by the sudden physical contact and he knew he had to reassure her that he wasn't rejecting her. "I really like you," he said to her softly, his voice full of sincerity. "I want to get to know you and I don't want-"

"-to get hurt," Gwendolyn interrupted.

Donatello paused. He had been about to say, 'to rush into things,' but he supposed her words were no less true.

He didn't want to get hurt, to make himself open and vulnerable enough to have his heart broken, but he supposed that was the risk everyone took when dating or even when in a relationship.

"Yeah," he agreed, letting his fingers fall from her chin. "And I don't want to end up hurting you either," he admitted, because he would hate to think that he would ever cause anyone that kind of pain, but knew it was a possibility, because nothing was ever certain.

There was never any guarantee in any relationship -be it friendship, romantic or familial- that it would survive the trials and tribulations of life. All anyone could hope for was to form connections that were deep enough to be able to endure whatever life decided to throw at them.

"Soooo…you're not saying that this date was a total disaster and you never want to see me again?" she asked him.

He gave a half-smile. "No. I think that it's a little different because there isn't anyone else here, filling in the silence with noise. My family can be quite…boisterous and interfering," he admitted with a sigh.

Gwendolyn gave a short bark of laughter. "And a little intimidating. And kind of terrifying."

Donatello looked at her in concern. "You were-?" he began but Gwendolyn held up her hands and shook her head.

"I just mean that you guys all know each other and yeah I'm kinda friends with Sabrina and know Liz a little bit, but all of you guys in one room are a little much because I am the outsider."

Donatello frowned, and asked in a soft voice, "And my brothers and I terrify you?"

"Uh…no. NO!" she said as if had taken her a moment to understand what he was asking. "Not at all. I mean, Leo is kind of…stiff and Raph is...intense and maybe not the nicest, but I know that I was probably a little bit of a shock to them and they will probably get better when I know them better and when they get to know me better and Mikey is great and super friendly, but truthfully…" her voice trailed off and she bit her lip as if she wasn't sure if she should continue.

Donatello waited patiently, believing he already knew who it was that she was going to name, but he kept silent.

"Catherine is kind of scary," Gwendolyn admitted hesitantly.

"Yes, she is," Donatello agreed, relaxing slightly at her answer in regards to himself and his brothers, and knowing that Catherine's ability to peek into the deepest parts of your soul and know what you are thinking and what you are going to do before you even do could be a little overwhelming.

"R-right," Gwendolyn stammered, surprised by his easy acceptance of his words. "Um…" she shook herself and appeared to gather her thoughts. "So maybe we call this date a mulligan and try again later?"

"Mulligan?" he asked, wondering if it was a Newfoundland word.

"A do-over. It's from golf."

"Oh," he said. "I don't really pay attention to sports," he offered slowly wondering if she was into watching sports like Raphael was.

"Me neither," she admitted and Donatello let out a small sigh of relief, "but it is a common term."

"So you want to do this date over again?" he asked trying to clarify her words.

"Well…I mean…." She looked at him a little helplessly. "I guess if you think… If you want..." her voice trailed off.

Donatello stared at her and he realized that he didn't like the expression of vulnerable uneasiness that she was exhibiting. He liked it better when she was smiling and laughing and he felt guilty for putting this look upon her face.

Trying to avoid the mires of social intercourse, he realized that he was failing and wasn't sure what he could say to make her easy again.

He didn't like the idea of agreeing to a…mulligan, being unable to see how they could have a do-over since time travel was not something they were able to do and just saying 'let's try this again' wouldn't erase the fact that they had both participated in this date, but at the same time, he was wondering if this is what she truly wanted.

Taking a mental step back, he knew he needed help and asked himself, WWDD? What would Donal do?

Donal would know how to fix it, know what to say and he realized that he did. "I think it is too early to call this date unsalvageable, don't you?" he asked lowly. "After all, the night isn't over yet," he murmured as he leaned forward and cupped her cheek with his hand and brushed his thumb across her petal-soft cheek.

"N-no," she agreed in a voice just above a whisper."It's not."

He smiled and pulled back a little, taking in the stunned but pleased look on her face, her cheeks blossoming with colour.

"Good," he said as he let his hand fall from her cheek and took the control from her unresisting hand, pressing the play button.

Settling back against the back of the couch, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her body against his own.

He knew that watching a movie wasn't the best way he could get to know Gwendolyn better, but at the same time, he liked the feel of her warm body pressed against his, and if watching the movie made her happy and less self-conscious about the awkwardness that had so far infused their date, he was okay with that.

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed and I know, things are super awkward, but at this point they are supposed to be. LOL**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello all! Sorry for the long delay. Again, I blame life, and Christmas.**

**Anyway, thank you to all of my lovely readers and reviewers, I can't thank you guys enough for reading this fic and for leaving your wonderful reviews, I appreciate them so much!**

**As always, thank you to my lovely beta Marie Allen for taking the time to read this for me. You are so very awesome!**

**This will no doubt be the last update of this year, but I am working on the next chapter and no, I have not forgotten or abandoned my other fics, just *sigh* LIFE. I hope to get around to all of them soon. The new year sounds like a good time to start. LOL **

**Anywho, I hope that you guys all enjoy this next chapter!**

**Dark**

* * *

**Chapter 16**

**Raphael** watched as his mate threw back her head and laughed at whatever it was Donatello had said and he couldn't help the swirl of jealousy that twisted in his gut and made him want to throttle his younger brother to within an inch of his life and possibly beyond.

This thick, black wave of covetous fury only intensified when he caught his mate's voice, light and joyous, exclaim, 'That's why I love you, Donatello, don't ever change,' before she slid from her perch upon a stool beside Donatello's work bench, gave him a brilliant, enigmatic smile, and strode from the lab.

Her stride did not break as she passed by where Raphael was hovering in the shadows just outside of the door, but as she looked over at him, it was like the joy and life that had infused her features were suddenly sucked out leaving only an icy reserve that was full of dire warning that caused him to flinch.

Beowulf whimpered, his wet nose pressing into his hand as the wolf-dog looked after his mistress with worried canine eyes.

Placing his hand between Beowulf's ears, trying to reassure the animal that everything was alright, Raphael felt his anger turn into a dark cloud of gloom. He walked into Donatello's lab, his four-legged shadow following him as his baby brother paled, looking like a deer trapped in the sights of an angry predator.

Raphael attempted to quell his tumultuous feelings, but knew that he wasn't succeeding very well. Before Donatello could say anything, he waved away his brother's words and said, "Yeah, yeah, not what it looks like, blah, blah."

Donatello tensed as if waiting for Raphael to accuse him of something, threaten him, or attack him, instead, Raphael merely asked, "So what was that all about?"

His brother remained unsure and hesitated a few moments before blowing out a huff of air, his shoulders slumping in embarrassment and dejection.

"I'm pretty sure I messed things up with Gwen and I was telling Catherine what had happened, hoping she would be able to tell me what I had done wrong -if I had actually done something wrong- but she… Well, you probably heard her. She just…laughed and said…what she said…" his voice trailed off as he fidgeted uncomfortably.

Raphael felt the tension in his muscles release and Beowulf, as if sensing this, relaxed and sat down at his feet.

Running both Catherine and Donatello's words through his head, Raphael found himself at a loss. "So wha'd you do, Genius?" he asked his frustrated and uncomfortable brother.

"I don't know!" he bit out, his voice rising in pitch as he flopped down on the stool Catherine had earlier vacated and stared intently at his hands as if they somehow contain the answers that eluded him. "We went to the Golf Center, we were playing mini golf and everything seemed really good, because our first date, our first _real_ date," he amended, "was kind of…awkward, but we were talking and laughing and then by the fifth hole, Gwen became really quiet and she only answered in monosyllables and it seemed to get worse. It was a disaster."

Raphael listened to his brother's explanation with interest, his eyes narrowing. "So wha'd you say to make her go all quiet?"

"Nothing that I know of," Donatello said with a sigh.

"You sure?" Raphael asked sceptically. "If a chick gets quiet all of a sudden, it's usually because you've pissed 'em off. If they aren't the yellin' type."

"I don't believe I angered or offended her," Donatello defended.

"Then what were you talkin' about?"

"Angles, force, speed," he replied. "Every variable that was preventing Gwen from achieving a hole-in-one."

Raphael gave a slow blink before a wide, knowing grin split across his face. "Just a quick question," Raphael managed to say, trying to keep himself from bursting into laughter. "Did you get a hole in one? Like, every time?"

"Yes," he stated firmly but felt that he needed to elucidate. "Mini-golf is not in any way challenging if one has a basic grasp of physics. I merely pointed this out and-"

Raphael clapped his brother on his carapace cutting off his words as Raphael chuckled and shook his head. "Donny, Donny, Donny."

"What?!" he asked completely oblivious to his social mishandling of his date.

"I get it, okay. You were just tryin' to impress her, but there's a difference between lookin' impressive and lookin' like a show-off and comin' off like an ass." Donatello gave him an incredulous look. "Hey," he added, "trust me, you were actin' like an ass, and I'm saying this 'cause I know more than a little bit about bein' one."

"I wasn't showing off," Donatello ground out through clenched teeth.

"Maybe you don't think you were, but you were showing off that big brain of yours and basically being all…what's the word? Condescending. No wonder your little Leprechaun-girl ditched you."

Donatello snarled at him, his lips pulling back from his teeth and Raphael was glad that he seemed to have struck a nerve as it assuaged his own jealousy issues somewhat.

"Calm down, Donny, you want help or not?" Raphael asked.

"Help?" Donatello wondered in confusion.

"Sure," Raphael said with a shrug. "After all, no one's messed up more than me when it comes to tryin' to get the girl."

Donatello frowned and looked away, causing Raphael's eyes to narrow in suspicion; not liking the fact that his brother would not meet his eyes.

"I managed to fuck up at every turn and still got Catherine to fall in love with me," he boasted and this caused Donatello's gaze to return to his own.

Donatello's expression was oddly guarded and he pointed out, "You weren't trying to get Catherine."

"True," Raphael acknowledged, "but that doesn't mean I didn't try showing off at the batting cages 'cause I was trying to impress the girl only to get my ass kicked and realize that it really sucks."

"But I wasn't in competition with Gwen," Donatello defended and Raphael shook his head at his brother's obliviousness.

"Even if you don't think you were, you were. And besides, when you are tryin' to do something, like play a game and the person you're playin' with is so much better 'n you, you kinda feel like you suck, big time."

His brother nodded, but his expression was abstracted, as if he had fallen deep into thought. "So you are saying I should have lost on purpose, or rather…not played as well?"

Raphael's mind scrambled to find the correct answer because he was tempted to say yes, but on the other hand, Raphael knew himself well enough that if he could get a hole-in-one every time, he would have done the same damn thing.

"I dunno," he said honestly.

Donatello gave him a surprised look that quickly shifted to annoyance.

He had boasted about being able to give Donatello advice on dating and make his socially inept brother understand how he had screwed up and at least give him a fighting chance at another date, but the truth of the matter was that he had no actual dating experience. He and Catherine hadn't 'dated'…at all. Like…not even once unless you counted the 'not-date' they had gone on when he had thought Catherine was actually Elizabeth or the date he had stolen that was supposed to have been Leonardo's dinner date.

"Hey," Raphael said as he held up his hands in a placating manner, "it kinda depends on the chick. Sounds like your girl doesn't go in for bein' impressed that way. Or at least, how she thought you were tryin' to impress her."

"But I wasn't trying-" his voice trailed off.

"I _know_, Donny, you were just doin' your thing, but she doesn't know you yet. So you pretty much gotta walk on eggshells until you guys figure shit out."

Donatello sighed and his shoulders slumped in dejection. "Why does this have to be so hard?" he wondered.

Raphael shrugged, not having an answer to give him.

"Can I ask you something?" Donatello asked after a few moments of silence.

"Anything, except explainin' about the birds and the bees."

Donatello's blush was immediate and Raphael chuckled.

Letting out a huff of irritation Donatello's expression grew serious and Raphael sobered slightly.

"Was it ever…awkward?" Donatello wondered. "Between you and Catherine? When you were alone?" he clarified.

"Nah," Raphael replied, shaking his head back and forth. "Never had time for it to get awkward. I was too damn busy tryin' to get her to hate me by sayin' nasty shit and pickin' fights with her."

"So how did Catherine end up falling in love with you?" Donatello asked softly as he began to trace symbols or maybe some kind of mathematical formula with his finger on the surface of his workbench.

Raphael tried to read his brother's expression, but Donatello's face had fallen into shadow.

"Fuck if I know," Raphael finally replied.

Donatello's gaze shot to his own and Raphael was the first one to look away. It was honestly still a mystery to him how and why and even when Catherine had fallen in love with him and he still marvelled at it, but there was a small part of him that wondered if Catherine wouldn't be better off without him.

It was a constant question that skittered around the dark corners of his mind. He knew he wasn't good for her. He could never be good for anyone, but he greedily and selfishly held onto her and her love and didn't give a shit if she would be better off without his broken-assed self acting like a fucking anchor dragging her down.

But this thought, which was usually so easily chased back into the very far reaches of his mind, refused to be banished and it asked, '_Would Donatello be better for her?_'

He closed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the thought that echoed through his head, knowing that it was only able to sound so loudly within his own head because he could feel that there was something wrong with his and Catherine's relationship; something he couldn't even put his finger on and only pinpoint it with the impression that Catherine's smiles were hiding something.

"You okay, Raph?" Donatello's concerned voice intruded upon his thoughts.

"What did Catherine say to you?" he asked as Donatello slid warily from his perch.

Donatello froze, his expression becoming guarded. "When?" he asked.

"When she said the bit about loving you. What did she say before that?"

"It's not… I don't know why- It was nothing," Donatello said and Raphael felt his temper flare. "Honest!" Donatello said as he put up his hands in defence. "I was telling her about my date with Gwen and she asked a few questions about it and only laughed and said that's why she loved me and not to change. That's it I swear!"

Raphael sighed in what felt like resignation. "She loves that you are oblivious," Raphael murmured. "And innocent and naïve."

"I don't know if that's a compliment or not," Donatello said rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.

"It's a compliment," Raphael offered softly. "You ain't tryin' to be anyone but yourself."

"Well, that doesn't seem to be working out for me very well does it?" Donatello grumbled bitterly and this surprised Raphael into letting out a bark of laughter, which only earned him a glare from his younger brother.

"You and Gwen just need to figure out something you two have in common. Mini-golf ain't it, so find something else."

"But that's the problem," Donatello said beginning to pace back and forth in agitation. "I don't know what we have in common. I don't… I can't even figure out what any of you guys have in common with your mates," he said with a shake of his head. "You and Catherine, Liz and Leo, Mikey and Sabrina, even Casey and April. None of you guys seem to have anything in common, but… When you and Catherine figured everything out and there wasn't any more fighting or misunderstandings, what did you guys do? What did you talk about?" Donatello asked an almost desperate edge to his voice.

Raphael gave a one-shouldered shrug, suddenly not comfortable with the direction the conversation was going, mainly because he didn't really have an answer for his brother.

"Stuff," he answered vaguely and Donatello gave him an incredulous look. "Listen, me an' Catherine ain't got much in common and fuck if I know why she's with me or how us together actually works, but… We were stuck in the middle of nowhere and there was therapy and renovations and the dog and training for Catherine to make sure she could handle me if I blacked out and tried to kill her and just… I don't know," he replied truthfully. "Paint colours and leaky faucets and bears and wolves and katas and stars and a shit-load of other stuff and I don't really pay attention to what the hell our conversations are about, only that we have them," Raphael made a sweeping motion with his hand, his brother's eyes wide with concern. "She say anything to you?" he asked his voice sounding anxious even to his own ears.

"W-what?" Donatello stammered. "Who?" he asked in confusion.

"Catherine," he replied quickly. "She say anything to you about me or her or us?" he wondered, not having intended to grill his younger brother about Catherine but suddenly feeling the need as their topic of conversation had left Raphael feeling unsure and oddly vulnerable.

"What?" Donatello asked again clearly not able to follow his sudden switch in topic.

Raphael took a step towards his brother who shrank back, his expression shuttering, and Raphael couldn't shake the feeling that Donatello was hiding something.

"No! Why would she?" Donatello deflected, answering his question with a question before his expression shifted to concern. "Are things between you…okay? Catherine seemed a little…reserved when she passed by you," Donatello observed.

Raphael found himself biting back a snarl, after all, he was the one who had brought it up. He instead searched his brother's face for any sign of interest or smug glee but found nothing but worry.

Catherine hadn't been reserved, she had been giving him a silent warning to behave himself where Donatello was concerned. She had forgiven Raphael for accusing her and Donatello of having an affair, but if he did something stupid like that again, he knew she wouldn't forgive him and he was not going to lose her just because his jealous tendencies had been riled by the fact that his brother made Catherine smile in a way he hadn't seen in months.

After what had happened with their first Christmas together Raphael knew better than to just assume anything and to actually talk with Catherine if he had questions or concerns, and so he had asked her if there was anything wrong and her only reply was that she had 'a lot on her plate at the moment,' and that she was 'just tired,' which he understood. After all, she was drawing both the _Harbinger_ comic books as well as planning the presentation of the _Alice in Wonderland_ production for Halloween as well as managing the business, corporations and properties left to her by her uncle when he passed away. Sure she had managers and assistants that helped with a lot of the workload, but she also had to deal with him as well and truthfully he didn't know how she did it, but she did.

And yet…

He opened his mouth to tell his brother that there was something off about Catherine, and it was pissing him off because there wasn't anything specific, only a gut feeling that something wasn't right.

Except…

When she was around Donatello, she seemed back to her old self.

A flare of jealousy caused him to snap his mouth shut.

The last thing he needed was for Donatello to get any ideas that there was a problem with his relationship with Catherine and the best way to keep Donatello away from Raphael's mate was to keep him occupied with Gwendolyn.

"It's nothing,'" he said, waving off his brother's concern.

"Raph-" Donatello began and Raphael clenched his fists together, growling low in his throat, about to threaten his younger brother to back the hell off when-

"Raphie?" Michelangelo's tentative, shaking voice interrupted and Raphael found his gaze swinging around to face his baby brother who suddenly paled, his body tensing and sliding into a defensive position.

"What?" he snapped, his temper suddenly very frayed.

Michelangelo's eyes widened for a moment before relief flooded his features and his balled fists dropped to his sides. His body relaxing, Michelangelo's eyes flicked around the room.

"Mikey!?" Raphael ground out trying to catch his brother's attention.

"Uh…right!" he stammered slightly. "I was looking for Cat, but she's not in here. Sorry, don't let me interrupt." Michelangelo said quickly as he turned tail and practically ran from the lab.

Raphael stared at the empty doorway and realized that he hadn't missed being a part of Michelangelo's weird moods and starts.

"What's up with him?" Raphael asked as he turned his attention back to Donatello, his earlier anger having banked for the moment.

Donatello was still staring at the lab entrance, his expression pulled into grim lines which didn't shift when Donatello's attention finally returned to Raphael.

His brother's gaze was searching and speculative and Raphael wasn't sure if he wanted his brother to find or not find whatever it was he was looking for.

An overwhelming need to divert his brother's penetrating gaze rose within him causing him to ask, "So, you gonna try askin' this chick out again or what?"

* * *

**Gwendolyn** strode down the street, her mint latte in hand as she thought about the fact that she was going to have to cut down on the damn things because her pants were beginning to get a little snug and trying to focus on anything other than Donatello and their disastrous date.

Unfortunately, the moment the thought popped into her mind, she latched onto it and began doing exactly what she was trying to distract herself from doing, which was thinking about him.

Her pace slowing, she stared down at the white lid of the paper cup she was holding and tried not to blame herself for how badly things had gone, but knew that it was in fact her own fault.

Things had been going so well. It had been refreshing to get out of her apartment and after accepting that they weren't breaking and entering because Donatello assured her he had permission from someone to be at the Golf Center, she allowed herself to relax and enjoy herself.

She had been excited about showing off her mini-golfing prowess as she had been quite proficient at mini-golf in high school, though she would admit that the last time she had played was nearly a decade ago, she had not thought her skills would have diminished that much, and they hadn't really.

After the third hole-in-one that Donatello got she realized that her skills were no match for his, but she had been impressed and she had been having fun. By the fifth hole she could actually feel her confidence and joy draining away as Donatello had explained how easy the game was and how, if one was able to calculate the correct angle, trajectory and speed, a hole-in-one was possible every time.

By the eighth hole she was done.

Gwendolyn knew that Donatello wasn't showing off, he was just proving to her that what he was telling her worked and although he attempted to help her by pointing out where she was supposed to hit the ball and how hard she was supposed to hit it, she wasn't able to replicate his shots.

This in itself should not have soured her mood as much as it had, but it had hit her all at once that Donatello was a _genius_.

It was stupid because she had _known_ he was a genius, but until that moment she hadn't really understood what that actually _meant_.

She was already dealing with the fact that Donatello was ripped and she wasn't exactly as fit or as in shape as he was which was making her feel a little body conscious, but she now realized that she had to contend with the fact that she doubted she could actually keep up with him intellectually.

It was one thing to have math or science conversations go over her head, it was another to have a game like mini-golf, something that was supposed to be challenging but innocuous fun, reduced to nothing more than physics.

She was the kind of person who still held that there was wonder in the world. Hell, she had honestly believed that Donatello and his brother's were fairies and even though they weren't, their existence only proved her world view and it honestly wouldn't surprise her to learn that Catherine was somehow not human as well.

As she watched Donatello sink his ninth hole-in-one, she couldn't even imagine what he could ever see in her that would hold his attention.

She could only be thankful that he had dated Catherine before her, because it gave her the confidence she needed to give this relationship a chance. It meant that Donatello wasn't just attaching himself to her because she was the first woman who had shown any interest in him.

She wanted desperately to believe that they could make things work; that the last few dates were only a bump in the road as they figured things out and got to know each other better, but it was getting harder and harder to convince herself of this.

He wasn't a fan of comic books or action movies. He had no interest in her passion for costumes and cosplay and though they had had some good times while they had been together, the instances when they had been alone had been occasionally uncomfortable.

Gwendolyn really liked Donatello, felt drawn to him, but she wasn't sure if she could take many more disastrous dates before she had to admit that they couldn't seem to connect.

She found this thought particularly depressing.

Taking another sip of her five hundred calorie beverage and enjoying every single drop of the sinfully delicious treat, she noticed that a black SUV that had been slowly moving into the periphery of her vision was pulling up beside her.

By nature she didn't think of herself as a particularly paranoid person. Whoever was in the SUV could just be parking -in a no parking zone- or being a jerk that had dropped someone off on the sidewalk and held up traffic. But after hearing from Donatello and Catherine that there had been enemies in the past that had threatened them, she couldn't help the spike of fear that raced through her veins.

Speeding up, she swallowed roughly as the SUV continued to slowly follow her. Heart pounding erratically in her chest, she realized that the once crowded street she had been walking along was no longer quite so full of people.

Wondering if she should break into a run, she was halted from this action by a familiar voice calling out her name.

Turning her head so that she looked over her shoulder at the owner of the voice, Catherine, her expression full of devilish mischief as she sat in driver's seat, the window rolled down, asked, "How would you like to see the bat cave, or more precisely, the turtle lair?"

Gwendolyn spun around nearly spilling her latte as she stared at Catherine in shock.  
"Wha-?" she wondered, unable to process the younger woman's words.

Catherine gave a knowing smile. "Get in," she said motioning to the passenger side door.

Gwendolyn hesitated for only a moment before she made her way to the door, opened it, and slid in next to the younger woman.

Catherine glanced over at her. "I apologize for scaring you," she said sincerely.

"You just surprised me, that's all," she lied and a twinkle entered Catherine's green eyes letting her know that the other woman knew she was lying, but let the matter drop.

Gwendolyn glanced around the black leather interior of the Escalade and wondered if Catherine was driving a rental before realizing that it probably wasn't. After all, a woman who owned the Brownstone probably had enough money to buy a ton of fancy vehicles.

She, on the other hand, had a little piece of crap Neon that was all rust and completely unreliable.

"This is a really nice car," she said, managing to keep the envy from her voice.

Catherine flicked her eyes around the interior. "I suppose it is," she said apparently unimpressed with the luxury.

Managing to keep her mouth from slipping open she leaned back in her seat and acknowledged that this was probably the least impressive of the vehicles Catherine owned and would not be surprised if she actually had a limo; complete with chauffer.

Looking over at Catherine, she found herself blushing at her judgemental, jealous thoughts.

"You have a vehicle you drive, right?" Catherine asked before pulling away from the curb.

"Uh…yeah. Sometimes. My car isn't…great. And driving in New York is a nightmare," she added as Catherine laughed and agreed with her statement.

"I was just making sure that you drove. That means we can go through the garage as opposed to having to walk to the main entrance."

"There are two entrances?" she asked.

Catherine only smiled a secretive smile, not answering and Gwendolyn understood that the other woman was not going to.

They fell into silence as Catherine negotiated traffic and Gwendolyn attempted to figure out where they were going, but gave up. She was horrible with directions but recognized that they were close to Central Park. "The lair is in Central Park?" she asked as she watched people milling around and enjoying the bright sunshine even though the temperature was a little chilly; though not too cold considering it was mid November.

Many of the people were bundled up against the weather wearing toques and heavy coats and Catherine was no exception. She looked warm and comfortable in a pink military-style jacket and a black, cat-eared hat that seemed to be a scarf as well.

Gwendolyn, not bothered by the cold as much and used to a much harsher climate, wore a brown fall jacket and cute cream scarf.

They continued past Central Park and Catherine answered, "Not exactly."

Gwendolyn suspected that the other woman was being purposefully cryptic as they drove down Central Park West getting closer and closer to the docks.

Feeling as if she was being rude by not making small-talk and a question popping into her head she asked, "Why are you taking me to the lair?

"We are going to the lair because I think it is about time," Catherine replied as she glanced over at her. "You can see Donatello in his natural element."

"So…Donny wanted you to bring me there?" she asked hesitantly.

"He doesn't know you are coming," Catherine answered.

"So why am I…? This isn't some kind of weird initiation or something is it?" Gwendolyn asked uneasily.

"Nothing like that," Catherine said as she shook her head. "Truthfully, I don't think Donatello has thought about bringing you to the lair yet," she offered.

Gwendolyn found herself looking down at her hands which were lying in her lap, her heart wavering with indecision and the slight sting of hurt.

"Is it because of Leo?" Gwendolyn asked, not wanting to be somewhere that she wasn't wanted.

Catherine studied her for a moment. "Yes," she affirmed. "For Donatello to invite you to the lair, he would feel as if he has to get permission from Leonardo first."

Gwendolyn nodded, biting her lip. "I don't want him to get in trouble."

Catherine laughed, causing Gwendolyn to look at the other woman.

"That's why I am bringing you to the lair," Catherine said with a wink. "I can handle Leonardo."

"Because Leo can't stand against you." Catherine looked surprised by her words. "That's what Donny said," Gwendolyn explained.

Catherine was silent for a moment, as if debating what to say. "He isn't wrong," she finally acknowledged.

"So why bring me to the lair?" she asked curiously.

"I heard about your date," Catherine said with a one-shouldered shrug. "And I know it didn't go very well."

Gwendolyn cringed. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean… It was good and then…" her voice trailed off as she winced, knowing that it was her fault that things had gone badly. "How did you do it?" she suddenly blurted out, knowing that asking dating advice from Donatello's ex-girlfriend was weird, but she was desperate. "How did you get past the fact that he's a genius?"

"What do you mean?" Catherine asked, clearly confused.

"I mean that he can calculate the exact velocity of a golf ball and the swing of a golf club, how long it would take for a human to get to mars, and any number of things all within the same breath, and I feel intimidated by someone who is so...so brilliant!"

Catherine blinked in surprise. "I've never really thought about it," she answered and Gwendolyn stared at the younger woman completely dumbfounded by her answer. "Donatello is Donatello," she replied easily. "He is sweet and thoughtful and incredibly creative. But I suppose the best way to think about it would be to understand that just because Donatello is a genius, does not make him knowledgeable in everything, nor is he infallible. He would not know the newest trends in fashion, what colours to paint a room to make it bigger or smaller, what stitch to use for a particular fabric or function or what wine best compliments a steak dinner."

"I don't think I would know half of those things either," Gwendolyn found herself mumbling which only caused Catherine to laugh.

"Exactly," she said with a smile. "Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses and Donatello is the same."

"I guess," she acknowledged slowly. "But he knows a lot."

Catherine chuckled, her eyes bright with mirth. "That is very true. But his knowledge can be a hindrance. It makes him a little…awkward at times. He's never been very good with small talk."

"So what did you guys talk about?" she asked and Catherine gave her an odd look. "I mean, what _do_ you guys talk about?" she corrected. It wasn't as if Catherine and Donatello didn't talk with each other; a fact that she was painfully aware of.

Catherine frowned. "I don't really know," she murmured. "Everything, anything, and nothing," Catherine offered softly. "Donatello knows me better than anyone I have ever known; even better than Elizabeth. I trusted him with my life -I _still_ trust him with it- and he is the only one I would ever allow myself to lean on, if such an occasion were to occur."

Gwendolyn felt her temper flare at Catherine's words, the snarled question of, 'Then why the hell did you toss him over for Raph?' sitting upon the very tip of her tongue, but she managed to resist the urge and instead asked, "Why are you trying so hard to make things between Donny and I work?"

Catherine glanced over at Gwendolyn, her face serious. "I want for him to find someone who can love him for who and what he is, quirks and all. And I really hope that woman is you."

Suddenly flustered, her indignation and fury almost forgotten, Gwendolyn found that she didn't really know how to respond. Staring at her hands -still clasped in her lap- her cheeks burning with embarrassment, she cleared her throat and said, "Me too."

They lapsed into a silence that felt heavy and slightly uncomfortable. Unsure on how to proceed, she finally gathered up her courage to ask in a quiet voice that miraculously held no anger or judgement, "Why did you run away with Raph?"

Catherine stiffened, her expression smoothing out so that Gwendolyn could no longer tell what the other woman's thoughts were or even what her mood was.

"Are you asking me why I left one brother for the other or why it was that Raphael and I left the lair?" Catherine asked in a tone devoid of emotion.

Gwendolyn felt the blood that had been receding from her cheeks return and she looked at the woman beside her in shock. Catherine stared back, her gaze -though not challenging- was unwavering.

Swallowing roughly, her brain scrambled to answer the question. She quickly concluded that the two events -which she had believed to be one-and-the-same- were apparently not. This caused her to question everything that she had previously believed and while her curiosity burned with renewed intensity, her instincts were screaming at her to proceed with caution.

Catherine had said that she and Raphael were living together because she had been willing to 'betray', 'abandon' and 'sacrifice' something, or someone to do so. These were words that carried with them a lot of weight and Gwendolyn had the very distinct impression that Catherine was not one to exaggerate.

Gwendolyn decided that -at the moment- the reason for Catherine and Raphael leaving the lair was more important than why Catherine had left Donatello for Raphael.

"Th-the last one," Gwendolyn stammered out. "Leaving the lair," she clarified.

Catherine turned her attention back to the road for a moment as she negotiated a left hand turn down a side street.

"To clarify, Raphael and I did not 'run away together,'" Catherine corrected. "I took Raphael from the lair to save his life," she stated succinctly before she glanced over at Gwendolyn, her expression and voice still devoid of all emotion.

"Wait. What?" she asked in confusion as she noted Catherine's use of the word 'took' before her mind focused on the part about Raphael's life being in danger. "His…?"

"His life, yes," Catherine affirmed.

Gwendolyn didn't know what she had expected Catherine to reveal, but a life or death situation wasn't one of the scenarios she had running around in her head.

Unfortunately, Catherine's admission only raised more questions than it answered. She didn't understand how taking Raphael from the lair would save his life. After all, if Raphael's life was in danger, wouldn't that mean that everyone else's had been as well? Unless…he was sick? It was possible, but Donatello was the one who acted as the family's doctor. And even if Raphael had needed a _real_ doctor, it wasn't as if any of the brothers could go to one.

About to ask what the situation had been, how Raphael's life had been in danger, she was cut off by Catherine asking her if she had any heart conditions.

"Any what?!" she yelped, her train of thought completely de-railed.

"Do you have any pre-existing heart conditions or are you subject to panic attacks or claustrophobia?"

Gwendolyn swallowed roughly. "N-no," she stammered.

"Good, "Catherine said with a nod. "I hope you don't mind the enclosed, dark spaces, or bugs, or rats," Catherine said as she drove under an underpass. "Actually, an affinity or tolerance of rats would be preferred," she murmured as she veered towards a large decommissioned, bricked-up drainage pipe that would easily be large enough for the vehicle to fit through.

"Uh… What are you doing?" she asked fearfully as Catherine headed straight for the pipe with apparently no intention of slowing down.

"We're going to the lair," Catherine said with an innocence that belied a spark of devilry that suddenly danced in the other woman's eyes -which did nothing to assuage the fear that had suddenly gripped her heart within an icy clasp.

Stupidly she tried to slam her foot down on a non-existent brake as she let out a sharp scream of fear and held up her hands in front of her face trying to shield it from the inevitable impact…

…which never came.

Opening her eyes, she looked in shock at the dark tunnel that stretched before them. Glancing over her shoulder, she was just in time to catch the last rays of light vanishing as a metal and brick barrier slid back into place.

"Lard dien' dumpin!"* she whispered under her breath. 'Bat cave' was not an exaggeration as she envisioned herself as Vicky Vale from the Batman movie with Michael Keaton.

Glancing over at Catherine -the woman's face suddenly illuminated by a row of overhead lights that blazed to life- Gwendolyn noticed that the other woman was wearing a Cheshire grin.

"You're a sleeveen* one aren't ya?" she asked a little heatedly, her accent thick.

Catherine didn't reply, giving her a sidelong look that only confirmed to her that Catherine was not only rimmed*, but also -as her grandfather would say- 'as deep as a grave,'* which only served to make Gwendolyn even more wary of the younger woman.

* * *

***Lard dien' dumpin**\- Oh my god!

***Sleeveen**\- a sly, smooth-tongued person, a rogue or a trickster.

***Rimmed**\- warped or weird.

***As deep as a grave**\- a person whose real feelings are not easily judged by their appearance.

* * *

**Hope you guys enjoyed! And don't worry, there will be Gwen/Donny goodness in the next chapter XD**

**Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Happy New Years everyone!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hello all! I know! It's been so long! I'm so sorry it has taken so long to get this up. I have no excuse except life and my other Fic Feral Red. ****On the bright side, I have been busily working on this fic and so I will have more chapters to post soon:)**

**Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers for sticking with this fic and offering all of your support XD**

**A giant thank you to Marie Allen who for Beta reading this.**

**And now please enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 17

**Gwendolyn** hadn't known what to expect when the rolled to a stop within the huge brick-walled chamber that Catherine referred to as the 'garage', but it hadn't been this.

Sure, she would admit that when they raced through the sewer tunnels she thought she had finally understood Donatello's reluctance with bringing her to the lair -a sewer was not exactly glamourous or hygienic- but confronted with the various vehicles as well as the helicopter that were parked within, she had to drastically re-order her thinking.

Yes, the air felt heavy and damp, but even though she detected the scent of untreated water in the air, it was much more pleasant than what she had found when riding the subway.

"Of course they live in a sewer," she mumbled under her breath, because that's where all giant reptiles in New York lived.

Catherine looked over at her, an eyebrow lifting, indicating that she had heard her soft words. _Seriously? Did this chick have supernatural hearing or something?_

She gave an embarrassed smile, her blush already staining her cheeks as Catherine continued to study her for a moment before exiting the SUV, Gwendolyn quickly following.

Taking a quick look around her, she had to conclude that the lair was more underground domicile than actual sewer. She trailed after the smaller woman, trying to keep up, curious and wary at the same time.

She could feel the thrum of adrenalin pulsing through her as she became nervous. Gwendolyn wasn't sure how Donatello would react to her presence and hoped that he would be glad to see her. She knew for a fact that Leonardo would not be pleased with her presence and she wouldn't be upset if she managed to avoid bumping into the blue-masked brother.

Striding down a hallway, they entered a common room that contained a large open area with a kitchen, a living room, a workout area, as well what appeared to be a Japanese-styled wooden structure with paper walls; the shoji doors currently closed.

Gwendolyn wasn't sure if it was usually this quiet, but so far no one seemed to be around.

Catherine did spare a moment to stare at the closed paper doors before darting down another short hallway and stopping in front of a heavy metal door.

Catherine tipped her head to the side and Gwendolyn wasn't sure what the other woman was doing. Before she was able to ask, Catherine hit a button that was mounted into the wall, which caused the door to slide open.

The younger woman walked through the door and Gwendolyn followed behind, the sound of welding and metal against metal echoing around the large, high-roofed chamber littered with tables covered with all manner of tools, gadgets, beakers, glass vials, and steel cabinets containing who-knew-what.

Her eyes were instantly drawn to a spark of light emanating from behind the beginnings of a vehicle of some sort.

There was the sound of rolling wheels and a moment later, Donatello stood, and Gwendolyn found herself swallowing at the picture he presented her with.

Wearing a brown leather apron over his bare chest, jeans, brown boots and circular welding glasses over his eyes, he really shouldn't have looked as good as he did; except that he looked damn fine.

She wasn't sure if it was the sweat that glistened off his muscles or the black grease that seemed to have made its way haphazardly across his flesh, but the truth was that she had a thing for guys who were doing some form of labour, preferably getting dirty while they did it.

It was funny, because although she knew that Donatello was a physical guy, after all, it wasn't like you got that kind of musculature from sitting around doing nothing all day, she hadn't quite equated his love of computers and 'tinkering' to full-blown building things with metal and getting his hands dirty.

"He dirties up well, doesn't he?" Catherine asked in a soft undertone and Gwendolyn felt her face turn red in embarrassment. Casting a quick glance over at Catherine, she found the other woman giving Donatello a once-over before catching Gwendolyn's eye and giving her a wink.

There was a thunk of something being placed upon a metal table, drawing Gwendolyn's eye back to Donatello and away from the disconcerting, knowing gaze of the younger woman.

Pulling his goggles up and onto his forehead, Donatello's eyes met hers and he stammered out, "G-Gwen?!"

"Hi," she said with an awkward wave, not sure if his surprise was a good reaction or a bad one.

Donatello's eyes immediately darted towards Catherine, who smiled widely. "I thought it would be nice for you to give Gwendolyn a tour of your lab and the lair."

Catherine's words seemed to spur Donatello to action because he looked around the room, looking uncertain. "Um…okay. Does Leo…?" he asked hesitantly. Catherine gave a quick shake of her head. "Of course not," he grumbled as he pulled off his welding goggles and wiped his forehead, smearing a line of grease across it.

Catherine glanced Gwendolyn's way and gave her a wink. "Right. My job is done," Catherine said with a small wave. "I have to confront the lion in his den," she said happily before she turned on her heel and strolled out of the room, leaving Gwendolyn and Donatello staring after her.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that woman," Gwendolyn found herself saying before she grimaced, realizing that the thought that had been in her head had found its way out of her mouth.

"I don't think anyone ever does," Donatello's soft reply came from over her shoulder.

Feeling as if she waned to sink into the floor, she slowly turned around and tried to recover her composure. "Catherine, uh…brought me…" she stammered out awkwardly. "But…I can see that you are busy. Maybe I should just…" her words trailed off as she motioned to the closed doorway behind her.

"No…no, I was just finishing up for the day," he said as he untied his apron and pulled it up and over his head before grabbing a dirty rag and wiping the grease from his hands.

Feeling her mouth go a little dry and trying to control her hormones at the sight of his bared chest, she tried to look anywhere but at him.

Unfortunately, her eyes continued to drift in that direction anyway because she found herself wondering just what it would feel like to run her fingers across the hard keratin of his chest. She noticed that Donatello had a frown on his face and was giving her a peculiar look, his nostrils flaring almost as if he was scenting the air.

Suddenly nervous, she wondered just how good Donatello's sense of smell was and if she had forgotten to put deodorant on this morning.

"You have…grease," she said pointing to her own forehead, wanting to break the tense silence that had suddenly filled the room.

Donatello seemed to shake himself out of whatever thought had claimed his attention and dragged the rag across his brow before throwing it down on the work bench.

"Thanks," he said as he grabbed a blue t-shirt from where it rested upon a stool, yanking it on over his head. "Listen," he began, looking uncomfortable as Gwendolyn felt uncertainty fill her. "I'm really sorry about how I behaved during mini-golf," he said as he nervously brushed the back of his neck with his hand. "I didn't mean to… I wasn't trying to show off. But it was pointed out to me that I came off acting like an ass."

"Oh," Gwendolyn said with surprise, not having expected Donatello to apologize since he hadn't actually done anything wrong. "No, I'm the one who I should apologize," she said as she took a step closer to him. "I acted badly. You weren't being an ass. You were just doing your thing and I just felt…a little left behind I guess," she admitted.

Donatello seemed a little confused by her words but gave a nod of acceptance. "So, no more mini-golf?"

Gwendolyn laughed. "I think that might be best," she agreed.

Falling into another silence, she busied herself by peeling off her winter coat, scarf, and hat while she looked around, trying to find some way to continue their conversation. "So, what are you building?" she asked, finding herself interested, never having seen a car or truck or whatever it was being built from scratch in real life.

Donatello looked over at the chassis. "I'm building an off-road vehicle," he told her. "I'm just welding extra supports to make the frame stronger, though I have to figure out the exact weight that I intend for it to be. I am waffling on if I want to make it an armoured vehicle with a weapons system or not. If I do, I'll have to beef up the chassis even more to account for the added…" Donatello's words trailed off, possibly in response to her expression which was of stark disbelief.

She realized that whatever she had been imagining his life had been up until this point, or still was, had been dangerous enough that he was actively building something straight out of _Mad Max_ and she honestly wasn't sure how she felt about this.

Sure, she knew about Karai and the whole ninja thing, but confronted with the reality of it, she found she was having a little problem processing everything.

"Maybe I should show you the rest of the lair," he said hesitantly, as if waiting for her to turn and run away.

On the contrary, she didn't feel like running away at all and was bursting with curiosity, while at the same time, completely overwhelmed.

"Can I have…maybe a tour of your…lab, first?" she questioned, using the word Catherine had used to describe the space. It was, she supposed, as good of a description as any. Workspace might also be apt as there were tools and other equipment, their purpose she could only speculate on, scattered around as well as what appeared to be an infirmary of sorts with medical equipment and cots set up in one corner.

Donatello glanced around. "Sure. Uh…this is where I generally build my larger projects," he said before walking past her. "This is my actual lab area," he said pointing to a space that had been set aside, filled with the glass beakers, a microscope, and other machines were completely unfamiliar to her.

There was a computer on a desk littered with pieces of paper, manila folders, a jar with pens and pencils sticking out of it and a desk lamp that looked precariously close to falling from the wooden surface.

"Infirmary is over there," he motioned to the corner with the medical equipment and Gwendolyn found herself moving towards it.

"Where did you get all this stuff?" she asked curiously as she inspected the heart monitor with attached IV pole.

"You would be surprised at what gets thrown away," Donatello replied his voice sounding stiff.

"You got all this stuff dumpster diving?" she asked incredulously, turning around to face him, and finding Donatello looking at her with his arms crossed defensively in front of him.

Realizing that her words might somehow be construed as being accusatory she quickly said, "I didn't mean… I just… Where did you get a helicopter dumpster diving?" she asked because okay, everything else she could almost see as being able to get from different places if you knew where to look, but a helicopter?

Donatello blinked, surprised by her question before a grin spread across his face. "Okay, maybe not everything was thrown away. I may have…appropriated equipment and vehicles from certain persons who were not very law abiding," he admitted.

"Wow," she said with a shake of her head. "Your life must have been very…" she couldn't quite think of the word to encompass crazy, complicated and unreal so she let the sentence drop and instead asked. "Okay, truth… Are there really giant alligators that live in the sewers?" she asked.

Donatello's grin grew and he dropped his arms to the side. "Only one that I know of. His name was Leatherhead. He left with the Utrom years ago. And don't ask," he said as she opened her mouth to ask what the hell an Utrom was.

"So, there was actually a giant alligator living in the sewer?" she asked instead.

"Yes," he affirmed.

"Right. Well…huh," she said, her thoughts a little jumbled as she digested Donatello's words. "Apparently, you don't need a fantasy world, this one is weird enough," she murmured, causing Donatello to give a lopsided smirk.

About to turn away, something caught her eye. There was a heavy metal door with a small window and a sliding lock. She didn't know why, but the door reminded her of a cell. Walking over to the cot that had originally caught her attention before the door had momentarily diverted it, she fingered the heavy leather straps. A shiver went down her spine. It was possible that the cot had just been salvaged as is, but looking a little more closely, she could see that they were an after-market modification.

"Do I want to know?" she found herself asking as she turned and looked at Donatello whose face was bleak and closed off.

"No," he stated firmly.

Giving a nod of understanding, Donatello moved away and she followed him, casting one last look over her shoulder before venturing from the lab and out into the lair.

"Are we the only ones here?" she asked as they walked down the hallway and into the combined living room and kitchen area.

Donatello looked around and gave a shrug. "Maybe," he said. "Mikey must be gone, or he's being unusually quiet. I don't see Bae so I am guessing Raph's out and Leo might be around. Sabrina and Liz are working."

"Bae?"

"Raph's…dog, Beowulf," Donatello answered, pausing before he said 'dog' giving rise to speculation that the 'dog' was a wolf, because it sure as hell looked like one.

Donatello showed her the kitchen, living room, and workout space that she had passed by when she had first been led through the lair by Catherine. He pointed out that their rooms were on the upper level with another bathroom but didn't offer to show them to her. He showed her the bathroom and laundry room on the main level as well as the dojo.

This area had been down another short hallway with Japanese-style shoji doors enclosing the entrance. The floor was lined with tatami mats and the stone walls filled with various edged weapons; most familiar, some not.

Walking over to the wall, her fingers passed over the shuriken and kunai. "What is this?" she asked, pointing to a weapon that looked like a baton with a scythe-like blade attached to a chain with a stick.

"It's a kusari gama," Donatello informed her.

"And you can use…all of these?" she asked motioning to the wall.

"Yes," Donatello answered as he walked beside her and picked up a bo staff from its place upon the wall. "This is my choice of weapon though." He gave her a quick glance as he gave the bo a twirl before returning it to its spot. "I don't like fighting or violence," he told her. "Raph lives for it. At least…" his words trailed off uncomfortably, lost in some dark thought for a moment before continuing. "Leo trains daily. I don't think he necessarily likes to fight, but it's part of who he is. Mikey isn't into fighting either, but I think he likes to show off his skills, which he is rather proud of. And truthfully, Mikey would be, if he applied himself a little more, the best fighter out of all of us."

"Really?" she asked, rather surprised. She didn't know any of the brothers that well, but she had the distinct impression that Mikey was the goofball. Leo was…pretty intense, and Raph, yeah, she could see him as a brawler.

Donatello chuckled a little. "Really," he affirmed.

Leading the way from the dojo, they passed by the wooden Japanese-styled structure, the shoji walls thin enough that she was just able to make out the silhouette of two figures standing opposite each other as well as the words of the occupants having what appeared to be a somewhat heated argument.

Donatello paused, listening, and Gwendolyn found herself doing the same.

"-left you too long causing you to fall back into your autocratic ways," Catherine's even voice observed.

"You had no right to invite that woman into our home!" the furious voice of Leonardo came from within the enclosed space.

Gwendolyn found herself cringing. She wasn't used to being hated. In fact, she was a decided people pleaser and it bothered her when she was disliked, especially for reasons that were completely beyond her.

Donatello took a step in the direction of the wooden steps that led up to the off-white sliding paper doors, but stopped when Catherine's voice replied, "I would like you to think very carefully about your next words, Leonardo."

Catherine's tone was not angry, but soft and measured, yet somehow containing the warmth and sharpness of a cold steel blade.

Gwendolyn found herself holding her breath, waiting to hear if Leonardo took the warning Catherine had placed into her words or if his anger was too much for him to check his tongue.

"Don't think that you can lecture me on what is best for my family," Leonardo hissed.

"It will not go well for you if you travel down that particular road," Catherine warned.

Leonardo's shadow, projected upon the thin paper, balled his fists in anger. "When are you and Raph leaving?" he asked harshly.

Donatello visibly flinched at the question.

Catherine took a step towards Leonardo, her body tiny in comparison to the larger male, but somehow, Gwendolyn had the impression that Leonardo was forcing himself not to take a step back.

"Perhaps when you realize that you are projecting your insecurities and your fears onto your brothers and that your actions are overbearing, hurtful, and incredibly selfish," Catherine replied, her words severe and biting but delivered without any emotional inflection.

Gwendolyn watched as Donatello winced, silence stretching between the two verbal combatants.

Suddenly, her hand was grabbed and Gwendolyn was yanked quickly away.

Looking at Donatello's back in shock, she was practically dragged around the corner and out of sight only moments before the paper sliders were thrown open and Leonardo stormed out, heading in the direction of the dojo.

Breathing out a sigh of relief at not being caught eavesdropping, a voice asked from somewhere over their heads, "Yo, Donny. Whatchya doin'?"

Nearly jumping out of her skin, she glanced up. Mikey was striding down the steps that led to the upper level, a pair of headphones hanging around his neck, a magazine rolled up in his hands. "Oh, hey, Gwen," he said happily before his joyful, welcoming expression fell. "Leo know she's here?" he whispered conspiratorially.

"Yes," Donatello answered, his voice tight. "Catherine and Leo were having…words."

"Seriously?" Mikey asked, his expression brightening again. "Leo get his ass handed to him?"

"As usual," Donatello replied.

Mikey gave a faux grimace. "And to think I missed it."

"Well, Leo's in the dojo if you want to ask him for details," Donatello said silkily.

"Yeah, no. I am so not getting my shell thrashed. But good to know. Think I will pop over to the Brownstone and avoid Leo 'til he calms down." Mikey seemed to think about something for a minute. "Better let Raph know to avoid Leo when he comes back. We don't need those two hot-heads going at it."

"I'm sure Catherine will handle it," Donatello assured him.

"Good point," Mikey said with a nod. "Nice seeing you again, Gwen. Don't be a stranger and don't let Leo get to you. He's a good guy, but he can be an idiot sometimes," Mikey said as he reached the main floor and was about to walk past them before he stopped. "Raph, we were just talking about you," Mikey said as Gwendolyn turned around and watched as Raphael strode in, the black wolf Beowulf by his side.

Raphael lifted an brow ridge as he folded up the leash that was in his hands.

"Leo's in a mood. He had it out with Cat over Gwen being here. He's in the dojo. So just a warning," Mikey said happily as Raphael's gaze shot to her own before his amber eyes travelled down to where her hand was still clasped in Donatello's.

Feeling a blush rise in her cheeks, unsure of she should let go of Donatello's hand or just leave it.

When Donatello made no move to release her, she didn't move as Raphael's eyes glanced around.

"Where's Catherine now?" he asked.

Mikey gave a shrug and looked over his shoulder at Donatello.

"I think she's still in the meditation room," Donatello answered.

Raphael frowned. "Leo's such an idiot," he growled.

"That's what I said," Mikey said brightly.

Raphael smirked.

"I'm out of here," Mikey said as he gave a wave and dashed away as if worried that Leonardo was going to come out of the dojo any moment.

"Leprechaun-Girl," Raphael said with a salute of his leash as he strode away, the wolf following at his side.

Gwendolyn stared at his retreating form in shock. "Seriously!? I'm not even from Ireland!" she shouted at his back, but if he heard her, he ignored her. "Well, if Leo's an idiot, then Raph's a jerk," she grumbled before wincing at her words and her complete lack of filter.

Looking over at Donatello, he gave a snort and a smile as he shook his head. Pulling her back towards his lab, he let go of her hand to hit the button to open the heavy sliding metal door.

"Mikey's right, you know," he began shaking his head and giving a smile "Words I never thought I would say," he mused. "But seriously, don't let Leo get to you. It's nothing personal against you. He's just…" Donatello seemed to be searching for a reason as to why Leonardo seemed to have such a hate-on for her, "being an idiot," he stated with a tired shake of his head.

Entering the lab, Donatello motioned for her to take a seat on a stool that was next to a wooden work bench, the top covered with mechanical drawings and a few small devices that she didn't recognize.

Biting her lip, she resolved that she would trust that Leonardo would work out whatever it was that was getting to him, and hopefully she would be able to avoid him until he figured it out. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Okay. I'll try."

Donatello gave her a grateful smile that caused her heart to beat a little faster in her chest, and she decided that even though her presence had caused Leonardo to get all twisted into knots, she couldn't help but be pleased at her current situation.

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**Hope you all enjoyed! **


	18. Chapter 18

**Hello all! I know it has been a bit, but rest assured I have been busy working on this story, as well as Feral Red for anyone that has been reading my Zootopia fic.**

**Hope everyone's summer has been going well! XD I've been a bit distracted by beautiful weather, but getting back at things:)**

**As always, a giant thank you to my readers and reviewers for taking the time to read my fic and to comment, always appreciate it.**

**Also a giant thank you to my lovely beta Marie Allen for taking the time to edit this for me!**

**And now on with the show!**

* * *

Chapter 18

**Donatello** smiled gratefully at Gwendolyn, glad that he could convince her that Leonardo's actions towards her were not personal.

Though Donatello had been shocked by Gwendolyn's sudden presence in the lair, he was not disappointed by it, but felt guilty that she had not been given a warm reception by his oldest brother.

He had deduced from Catherine's scathing words that she had discovered the root of Leonardo's adverse reaction to Gwendolyn's presence in their lives and was calling his oldest brother out on it; a development that Leonardo had not appreciated.

Wanting to ignore whatever it was that had gotten Leonardo all twisted up in knots, he couldn't help but feel he was going to get dragged into it anyway. And even though Catherine seemed to be trying to avert that particular occurrence, it wasn't right.

"I'll go talk with Leo a little later," he said to Gwendolyn. "It's not fair for you to have to be caught up in whatever issue he's dealing with and it isn't fair for Catherine to have to deal with him either," he said, feeling annoyed that he had to fight for his right to have someone in his life while everyone else was free to do as they pleased.

Granted, he knew this was not a fair assessment and that Leonardo had every right to be concerned. It wasn't as if they had known Gwendolyn for a very long period of time, but still, by Leonardo's logic, no one else could ever come into their lives and this infuriated him.

"Catherine didn't seem to mind too much," Gwendolyn hazarded. "Like…it's kinda what she does."

Donatello glanced over at Gwendolyn, his attention brought back to his companion and although her words were not untrue, they felt a little…odd, as if Gwendolyn was asking a different question but not wanting to ask it directly.

Frowning in contemplation, he acknowledged that, "It_ is_ what she does." Catherine was deftly handling Leonardo for him, and that wasn't right, not only because he should be able to stand up to his older brother, but also because, "She has enough on her plate already without having to deal with Leo and-" Donatello cut himself off, his remorse and anxiety at what Catherine was going through with managing Raphael's recovery, and running interference with Leonardo quickly changing to a nagging feeling of misgiving.

"And…?" Gwendolyn prompted.

Donatello glanced at her before looking away, trying to grasp at what to was that was bothering him. "I don't know," he murmured. "Something…" he began as he tried to reach out and take hold of the ephemeral thought that hung right before him, but it vanished as the door to the lab slid open and the object of his thoughts strolled in.

"Donatello," Catherine began, "I have a meeting I need to go to, would you mind driving Gwendolyn home? Unless you have somewhere you need to be?" Catherine asked, the last question directed at Gwendolyn.

"Uh," Gwendolyn gave a quick glance at Donatello who caught her eye before looking back to Catherine. "I don't really have…if Donny isn't…" she trailed off uncertainly.

Donatello studied Catherine with deep suspicion as she gave him a brilliant smile.

"I can drive her home," he affirmed even as he tried to understand what deep game she was playing at.

"Great," Catherine said brightly before turning on her heel and giving a wave, exiting the lab almost as quickly as she had entered it.

Donatello narrowed his eyes in speculation before he shook himself and walked over to the stool placed next to Gwendolyn, accepting the fact that Catherine's actions were going to have to wait until another day.

Catherine's smile had been mischievous and full of delight, but Donatello couldn't help but notice the dark circles beneath her eyes and the pale opalescence of her features.

"Sorry," he said. "Did you want anything to drink? Maybe a coffee?" he asked Gwendolyn, suddenly recalling his manners and focusing all of his attention back to the woman beside him.

Gwendolyn smiled. "A pop would be nice," she said. "But I thought we were hiding from Leo."

Donatello shook his head. "Avoiding, not hiding. And Leo isn't angry with me or you. Trust me, he's furious with himself right now. And Catherine… Mostly Catherine," he affirmed. "But avoiding my brothers is why I keep a mini fridge in here, as well as a supply of snacks and coffee. Lots of coffee," he admitted a little sheepishly as Gwendolyn laughed.

"Very smart," she said as she accepted a ginger ale from the fridge and Donatello went for a Coke.

"Well, I am a genius," he said as he broke the tab on his cola and took a swig, leaning up against the workbench opposite of where she was sitting.

"I would say a mini fridge is more…wily than genius," Gwendolyn bantered back. "I always did want that coyote to catch the roadrunner," she said with a smile before she looked uncomfortable, as if she feared she had said something wrong or insulting.

Not sure what to say in response, only having a vague recollection to the characters she was referring to, Gwendolyn quickly filled the silence by picking up the blueprints for his off-road vehicle and asking, "So, you're into off-roading?"

"Not really," he replied as he pushed away from the workbench he had been leaning against, walked over to where Gwendolyn sat and took up the blueprints. "I just wanted to have something to do," he said truthfully. "Besides, you never know when a vehicle like this will come in handy."

He began pointing out various modifications he had made to a standard SUV frame and the difference between the one that would have an integrated weapons system and the one without.

Somewhere along the way, he lost her, her mind having wandered, and Donatello found that he had to bite back the disappointment that flooded through him.

Suddenly, she sat straight up, her eyes widening. "What time is it?" she asked, as she looked around before pulling her phone out.

Donatello glanced over at his clock, seeing that it was just after 6:00 pm.

He informed her of this and she shook her head. "I have to go."

"Yeah… Sure," he said, not sure if he was glad of this or not.

Gwendolyn gave a nod and grabbed her light-blue coat, pulling it on before tying her white knit scarf and pulling her matching hat over her head.

Donatello snagged his hoodie, yanked it on over his head before slipping on his coat. Gwendolyn followed him as he walked towards the back of the lab.

Hitting the button, the huge metal door that separated his lab from the garage opened.

"I wondered how you would get the chassis out of here," Gwendolyn said to him and he smiled at her.

"I usually work on any repairs that need to be done in the garage," he told her, "but sometimes I like to work in my lab. It's quieter," he admitted.

Ducking under the door, which was slowly rising, he made sure Gwendolyn made it through before turning and stopping short as he watched Raphael snarl a few incoherent words as he launched his motorcycle helmet across the garage where it smashed against the wall with a sharp crack, bouncing off to roll to a stop a few feet away.

Raphael's head swivelled towards them, a low growl vibrating in his chest causing Donatello to step protectively in front of Gwendolyn.

His brother's golden gaze glittered with fury as he quickly strode from the garage.

Donatello felt his muscles relax. "Like I said, the lab is quieter," he said with a resigned shake of his head.

Looking over his shoulder at Gwendolyn, he found the woman immobile, her eyes wide, face unnaturally pale.

"Are you okay?" he asked, rushing to her side.

Gwendolyn gazed at him in shock. "Is he…?"

Donatello glanced over at the shattered remains of Raphael's helmet and blew out a breath. "Raph is…" he let his sentence drift off. He really had no excuse for his brother's behaviour. "His sports team could have lost or maybe he and Catherine got into something, it's hard to say, but Raph doesn't handle his emotions very well." He shook his head. "Trust me when I say that this is Raph being restrained."

Gwendolyn's eyes drifted to where Raphael had retreated and gave Donatello a look that he interpreted to mean that she wasn't at all comforted by his words.

Donatello knew that Raphael's violent outbursts of temper could be frightening to someone who wasn't used to them -and even to those that were- but he was so used to them that he didn't even think about how an outsider would view them.

But looking at Gwendolyn's still pale features, it was obvious that Gwendolyn was trying to shake off her initial fear, and he couldn't blame her.

Donatello could admit that placing Gwendolyn in Raphael's presence made him feel uneasy. Granted, he knew that-

He never finished his thought as he realized something he hadn't noticed up until now. Donatello wasn't sure if it was purposeful or not, but neither Elizabeth nor Sabrina were ever alone in Raphael's company.

Thinking back on the weeks since Catherine and Raphael had come back, even when Catherine and Raphael had been staying at the Brownstone, most nights Elizabeth had spent at the lair, and if she wasn't at the lair, Leonardo was with her at the Brownstone, and the same went for Sabrina; though the Scottish woman had been largely absent from the lair since Raphael and Catherine had removed themselves from the Brownstone.

Now that Raphael and Catherine were spending a good deal of their time in the lair, the other two women were around, but only if Catherine was around and they no longer spent the night.

Shaking off this thought, he put it aside for another day, as he didn't want to speculate that his brothers were either consciously or unconsciously keeping their mates away from Raphael.

At this depressing thought, he acknowledged that he couldn't blame his brothers if they were. Raphael's temper had always been bad, but coupled with the high possibility that he could have another episode and seriously injure anyone who happened to be around, he could understand the precaution.

He could only hope that Raphael had not noticed, or if he had, that he didn't care. Elizabeth would never approve of Raphael, but tolerated him for her sister's sake, and although Sabrina was friendly with his hot-tempered brother, she was also wary of him.

Motioning for Gwendolyn to follow him, Donatello walked with her to the van, his thoughts sunk in a roiling gloom.

"I didn't realize it was so late," Gwendolyn offered as she settled into the seat beside him.

"Yeah, me neither," he admitted, trying to push away his dark thoughts and turn them back to the present.

He hadn't looked at the clock when Gwendolyn and Catherine had interrupted him, but if Raphael had taken Beowulf for a walk, come back, left again and returned, then more than a few hours must have passed.

"Thank you for driving me home," Gwendolyn said softly and he looked over at her, giving her a smile.

"You're welcome," he said as he turned over the engine and opened the large metal door that separated the garage from the underground tunnels.

"Did you really build all of this?" she asked curiously, the lights illuminating the curved brickwork as they passed by.

"I didn't build the tunnel system," he explained, "but I made many of the modifications as well as the doors and security system. Each vehicle that we drive is equipped with censors that automatically open the doors," he informed her as they exited out the hidden grate and onto the road, Gwendolyn's gaze upon him.

"That's amazing!" she said with awe and Donatello felt a pleased flush suffuse his features.

He glanced over at her before turning his attention back to the road as he effortlessly slid into New York city traffic.

"Thanks," he said a little awkwardly, because he wasn't sure what else to say. He supposed he could have gone into a long litany of 'amazing' things he had either invented or built, but felt that it would be bragging to do so, and he had a feeling that Gwendolyn would get that glazed look in her eyes and fall into withdrawn silence like what had happened during mini-golf.

This thought alone only caused him to review the entire time that he and Gwendolyn had spent this evening and although it was true that the time had passed relatively easily, he and Gwendolyn still seemed to have trouble connecting.

They couldn't seem to find any shared interests and though he had been shocked and felt a heated response suffuse him the moment he had scented Gwendolyn's desire for him when she had first entered his lab, he knew himself well enough to know that a physical relationship based upon nothing else was not something he was interested in.

Unfortunately, this seemed to be the reality he was facing.

He found Gwendolyn attractive -very much so- and sweet, and painfully awkward -which he found endearing- but if the long silences that stretched between them were any indication of their compatibility, then he could only conclude that things were not going to work out for them.

Glancing over at Gwendolyn, she sat in the passenger seat, deep in thought. What she was thinking about he couldn't begin to speculate, but he didn't feel like intruding.

The only thing he could be thankful for was that the quiet of the van did not feel stifling and was in a way, comfortable.

Pulling up outside of Gwendolyn's apartment he put the van in park. This seemed to startle Gwendolyn out of whatever abstracted state she had fallen into because she sat bolt upright, her head swivelling around as she took in her surroundings.

She looked at him with combination of horror and self-reproach. "I'm so sorry," she said shaking her head back and forth. "I didn't… I wasn't... I just… Please tell me you weren't trying to talk to me and I just ignored you this entire time," she pleaded.

Donatello shifted, turning towards her and leaning his left forearm across the top of the steering wheel. "No. You seemed to be thinking about something and I didn't want to bother you."

Gwendolyn groaned, her shoulders slumping. "At least that," she grumbled under her breath. "I'm sorry," she repeated her apology. "I was…thinking about something and I completely zoned out," she explained and Donatello found himself sympathising with her -being guilty of this particular habit as well- but saddened that his company was not enough to keep her attention.

Donatello was about to tell her that it was perhaps better if they…just remained friends, but even this seemed like a stretch, felt cliché, and along the lines of, 'it's not you, it's me.'

He struggled to find the words that would make 'breaking up' with Gwendolyn less horrible and awkward, but before he could say anything, Gwendolyn spoke.

"Um…Donny?" she began hesitantly and Donatello wondered if she was going to save him the trouble of trying to bring this debacle to an end. "I…" she bit her lip, as if unsure how to continue and though Donatello was tempted to help her along, he felt that he wasn't quite that brave. "I was wondering if you'd like to come up?"

Donatello's mind screeched to a halt and he stared at her in shock. Her body language was screaming uncertainty and hopeful hesitation and his mind skipped to the obvious conclusion that she was asking him for far more than just to hang out in front of the TV.

"I-" he began, but she interrupted, which he was sadly grateful for because he wasn't sure exactly what he was going to say. The primitive part of his brain that he hadn't really known existed was suddenly very interested in what was being offered, while the logical part of his brain argued that he had been just about to break up with her and that to follow her up and engage in any kind of physical intimacy was morally abhorrent.

Finding this dichotomy within himself both fascinating and troubling at the same time, he listened as she stammered, "I-I'm starving and I can order some pizza and I was thinking…I was wondering... Could you help me with something?"

Donatello felt his heart drop at her words and he tried to contain his frustration at being thought of as nothing more than the convenient handy-turtle.

It was on the tip of his tongue to deny her request, unfortunately, large doe-coloured eyes were looking at him beseechingly and he found that he wasn't immune to her silent entreaty.

"Sure," he said after a moment, placating his ego, his pride, and his conscience by arguing that if he didn't help Gwendolyn with whatever repair she required -perhaps a broken toaster- that he would have to go back to the lair. Not a horrible prospect on most nights, but tonight, Leonardo was in a foul mood, Raphael was in a rage, and knowing this, tinkering with something mundane while eating pizza with a woman whose company was awkward but not abhorrent, did not seem like the worst way to spend an evening.

Gwendolyn gave him a thankful smile before they both exited the van.

Donatello pulled up his hood and shoved his hands in his pockets as he followed Gwendolyn, who was on her cell phone, having spared no time in her quest to get pizza delivered as quickly as possible to her apartment.

Once ensconced inside, the pizza twenty minutes out, Gwendolyn pulled off her outer clothing before she began pacing back and forth in agitation as he removed his own coat and pushed back his hood.

Watching her movements, Donatello wondered if he had again read the situation wrong and instead of helping her with something -like moving a piece of furniture- she wanted him to _help her_ with something.

His senses blazed to life as he stomped down on his base instincts and waited for her to speak so he would understand what kind of ground he was standing on and react accordingly.

He did scent the air and found no trace of the desire that had rolled off her earlier in the day and so bit back his frustration -disappointment?- he didn't even know anymore.

"I have this project," Gwendolyn began, ceasing her pacing, but clasping and unclasping her hands nervously.

At hearing the word 'project' Donatello braced himself to be asked to either help in or actively participate in something that he wasn't going to like.

"I accepted the commission, but… it's confidential. I'm not supposed to show anyone or talk about it with anyone, but…" she paused a moment before her next words tumbled out in a rush. "I'm in way over my head and I need your help and you don't have to say yes, I'll understand, and you might not even be able to help, but I thought you might and if I bail on this it will probably ruin any chances I have of really growing my business and I don't want to be blacklisted as someone who can't get the job done and it will be presented at Comic Con. Comic Con!" Gwendolyn finally took a breath and Donatello stared at her blankly.

He understood what she had said -he even knew what Comic Con was- but he could admit that he was having trouble grasping the entirety of the situation.

"Why did you accept the commission if you knew that you wouldn't be able to complete it?" he wondered.

"Because it's for Comic Con!" Gwendolyn practically wailed in a mix of hushed reverence and frantic exasperation -the last most likely aimed at him.

"And it isn't like I can't technically have help on the commission," Gwendolyn began, her tone implying that she was attempting to reason with herself as well as with him. "It isn't as if I will be wearing the costume for any of the contests or anything, but-" she broke off mid-sentence and walked over to her kitchen and snatching her laptop from the counter. Striding back into the living room, she flopped herself down on the couch and placed the laptop on the coffee table, motioning for him to sit next to her.

"It's easier if I just show you," she said as she opened the laptop halfway. "But like I said, totally confidential, as in don't…okay I know there aren't many people you would tell, and I get it that you don't really care about comics so this won't even really be too big a deal for you…sorta. Okay, maybe it will be, but I figured that since you were part of the Masque of the Courts Halloween Ball that it should probably be okay."

Opening the screen all the way, Donatello walked over to the couch and slowly sat down beside her, his attention focused upon the screen where there was a sketch of a woman dressed in intricately detailed robes and headdress viewed from several different angles.

He studied the image, reading the written notes under different parts of the sketch before reading the description.

Pieces suddenly clicked into place as he tried and failed to stem the rising tide of his anger, directed firmly at his meddling sister-in-law.

"Let me guess," he ground out, "the Raven?"

"The Raven!" Gwendolyn practically squealed as she pushed his shoulder excitedly. "You really do like _Harbinger_!" Gwendolyn squeaked happily, as if his previous assertion about his enjoyment of the _Harbinger_ series had been a possible exaggeration or complete fabrication.

It was true that he did enjoy _Harbinger_, and looking back on the sketch he could acknowledge that it was drawn by the same person who illustrated_ Harbinger_, but it was Catherine's writing that he had instantly recognized.

"The outfit itself isn't that difficult," she said of the long multi-layered robes and obi-like corset, "the gauntlets and armour will be time consuming, but doable, it's the headdress and wings that I need help with."

Stomping down on his anger, and determined to have a word with Catherine when he saw her again, Donatello looked again at the drawing. The headdress, though opulent, didn't look like it would be too complicated to him, same with the wings. He remembered the fairy wings Gwendolyn had made for Catherine as the Queen of Hearts and the black, feathered wings didn't seem any more complicated.

"By the measurements of the costume, I'm going to assume that the Raven has either Catherine or Liz in mind to be the model for this character," Gwendolyn informed him. "Which I guess makes sense since the headdress covers most of the face, so people may not recognize them, and if he likes them as models it's easier to keep the same ones if he can. But…" she studied the sketch, "I would say that Elizabeth would probably be better since Catherine has so many scars…" she said almost to herself until she realized how it sounded, and so she stammered, "W-which is… I mean… They can totally be covered by makeup if Liz isn't available or is busy or whatever," she backtracked having apparently taken his silence for disapproval rather that guilt.

All anger that he had felt for Catherine only moments before was completely extinguished by the remembrance of how Catherine had received her scars.

"Did… Was Catherine in an accident of some sort?" Gwendolyn asked softly.

Donatello cringed inwardly at the question. He couldn't even answer. Accident? No. Raphael's actions had been completely intentional even though he had not actually been cognisant of them.

"Right…" Gwendolyn murmured when Donatello didn't answer. "Another subject that is either 'off limits,' 'secret,' or 'not your story to tell.'"

"Yes," he stated bluntly. "But if you want to know, you can ask her," Donatello replied and he could feel the frustration mixed with anger practically radiating off her as she gave him a look that he interpreted to mean that it would be a cold day in hell before she ever asked Catherine about her scars.

The problem was that Donatello couldn't blame Gwendolyn one bit.

He could feel the weight of too many secrets siting heavily upon his shoulders, but talking about what had happened was like reliving it, and he just…couldn't.

Gwendolyn let out a huff of air, shook her head and turned her attention back to the screen.

"The headdress and wings?" he prompted, Gwendolyn remaining silent; either losing her train of thought, re-evaluating her offer of wanting him to help, or too angry to form words. "I don't understand what is complicated about them," he continued, finding he didn't like that she was upset with him and not sure how to make her feel better.

Focusing back on the screen, Gwendolyn hit 'print' and the whir of a printer readying itself began before she stood and walked over to her work table.

Waiting a few seconds as the pages printed out, Gwendolyn began searching for something, lifting mounds of materials and shifting bolts of fabrics out of the way before finally finding her prize -a pencil- and grabbing the pages from the printer before sitting back down beside him.

Closing the laptop and pushing it to the side, she traced a silver visor that was settled across the eyes of the character. "So, this character is called…Marwolaeth…Yn…Yin? In? Annwyl…will?" Gwendolyn said, trying to pronounce the unfamiliar name. She flipped to another page. "Marwolie-th en Annwheel," she said with a slight shake of her head. "We'll just call her Death's Beloved, since that's who she is. So, she is some kind of goddess character who is blind, deaf, and mute, and you can't touch her or you will freeze to death. Hence the robes, headdress, and gauntlets that cover everything but her lips and chin. But because this visor covers her eyes and her ears, the model needs to still be able to see to walk. Hearing might be okay, but the visor is supposed to look like a solid piece of silver metal.

"As for the wings, they are a problem because there is going to be two parts to the Comic Con presentation. The first part is where the model is just walking around outside the booth, the other is the stage show. The model won't be wearing the wings on the floor, but during a battle sequence, the wings need to go from being hidden beneath the capes, to fully extended, to resting, and I have no idea how to accomplish either of these things. But I thought that…you know, since you are so…mechanically inclined, you might be able to help me."

During her explanation, it appeared that any hurt that Gwendolyn had been feeling had vanished, replaced by apprehension that he either wouldn't or couldn't help her and excitement regarding the possibility that he could.

Donatello took the printed sheets of paper from Gwendolyn's hands and studied them. He could admit that the task wouldn't be easy.

"Oh," Gwendolyn began. "There will be wires involved as well. So, the wings will have to function around a harness."

Nodding in understanding Donatello had to admit that whatever his feelings on Catherine setting this whole situation up, that he was intrigued. "The visor should be easy enough," he said, thinking out loud. "A small screen and hidden camera would allow Catherine to 'see', and an earpiece and microphone should help with the sound."

"So…you do think that Catherine will be chosen as the model?" Gwendolyn asked.

Donatello mentally kicked himself. He was supposed to pretend that he didn't know who the Raven was. "If you are correct in your assumption that the Raven would choose either Liz or Catherine as the model, then he would choose Catherine. She can fight, Liz can't," he replied smoothly.

"Catherine can fight?" Gwendolyn asked in surprise.

Donatello nodded, glad he seemed to have negotiated that pitfall enough that Gwendolyn wasn't pursuing a line of questioning about the identity of the Raven.

"Yes, she can," he stated. Granted, he didn't know if Catherine could fight with a weapon, but he had to assume that she could. Raphael would no doubt have taught her to be able to defend herself with something other than her fists.

"Is there anything this chick can't do?" Gwendolyn huffed out under her breath.

Donatello gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Sing, play an instrument, build things…sew," he said as he glanced at her, not sure if he should be annoyed that Gwendolyn couldn't seem to stop comparing herself to the younger woman. "Just to name a few things off the top of my head."

Gwendolyn blinked, a rosy blush climbing up her cheeks before she chuckled. "Fair enough," she said returning her attention to the sketch. "So…wings?"

Donatello frowned, his mind working on the problem. "I could probably build a structure that is lightweight and I could wire them in such a way that would allow the wings to move. It might be easier to have the wings controlled by someone with a remote."

"So…you're going to help?" Gwendolyn asked him in an anxious voice.

Continuing to stare at the sketch, his mind was already whirling with the possibilities. He was coming up with and rejecting materials to build the structure and deciding what kind of remote and circuit board he would use for the wings. "What kind of…?" he began before he realized that Gwendolyn had asked him a question and he hadn't answered it. "I'll help you," he said, giving her an embarrassed smile.

Gwendolyn's doe-brown eyes lit up and she launched herself at him, hugging him and in the process, knocking him over so that they sprawled together on the couch, the pieces of paper that had been held in his hands scattering all over the floor as he stared up at Gwendolyn in shock.

"Thank you so much!" she said excitedly, her broad grin spreading across her face as she stared down at him and that's when everything suddenly changed.

Eyes locked together, the room became tense and silent and Gwendolyn's eyes darkened slightly. Reacting to the invitation in her eyes, Donatello reached up and dragged her down so that she was pressed tightly against him, his lips easily finding hers.

Heated lust burned through his veins as he devoured her. He buried his fingers in her hair, pulling it from the ponytail that confined it.

The silky locks fell around them, forming a dark curtail for their amorous endeavours. The heat from her body seared his skin, even through his clothing, and the scent of her desire surrounded them.

About to growl in frustration that there were too many clothes separating them, a loud buzz jolted them both back to reality.

He nearly dumped Gwendolyn on the floor but managed to keep hold of her even as she nearly leapt from him.

Releasing her, her face bright red with embarrassment, she scrambled to the door where she answered the call and buzzed the delivery boy up.

Turning back to the couch, her gaze darted around the apartment, frowning in bewilderment at finding him gone.

He watched from the shadows, a knock on the door causing her to jump slightly. Opening the door, she took the pizzas and paid the delivery boy before closing and locking the door behind him.

Slowly walking back to the couch, her eyes continued to scan the open space as he finally peeled himself from the shadows which were thickest by the window curtains.

Striding to her side, she finally caught sight of him and she yelped in fright, tossing the pizza's in the air.

Deftly catching the flying cardboard boxes, he gave her a shy smile, "Sorry," he said. "Ninja."

Gwendolyn shook her head and chuckled nervously, before they made their way back to the couch.

* * *

**I hope you all enjoyed!**


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